The Greedy, The Sexy, The just plain bad ass
by Eagle Alchemist
Summary: He wants it all, but there is one thing he can't seem to get. She wants power, secretly she wants him too and just to be a pain, one more adds complications to the mix. AU, Yaoi/Het, Adult content, Rated for later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**The Greedy, The Sexy, The just plain bad ass**

_By: Eagle Alchemist_

_Chapter 1_

Street lights flickered off, with the first light of dawn. The warm oranges and yellows, spilled down the buildings and flooded the asphalt, side walks and parks. It was the start of yet another gorgeous day, in Zusyrion City. As Many of it's residents, were getting ready to face the day and whatever tasks it held for them, one resident was preparing to rest after a long and frugal evening. He was a tall man, six foot two at least, with jet black spikey hair and deep amethyst eyes. He wore pinstripe dark charcoal pants with his hands dug into the pockets, the matching jacket was draped on the back of his leather desk chair, the top four buttons of his crisp light blue shirt were undone and his favourite black/white Fedora sat upon the desk. He wore dark sunglasses, two tone leather shoes that matched his hat and he was stood at the large semi-circular window, watching as the last of the revellers and patrons, left his highly profitable club.

Though, no matter how much the club raked in, Greed was still...not happy.

Greed was an entrepreneur, a womaniser, a conman to name but a few of his skills. But he was best known, for being the head of the notorious H gang. He had gathered together, over the years, a rag tag group of misfits and trouble makers. Those who were lost or out of place and he had effectively, given them a place to call home. Even, a family. Of course they all knew what Greed was like and that he considered all of them, his possessions. Something like that, didn't bother them enough to want to leave the gang. Sure, it meant they were expendable. Naturally, they were just his pawns, his lackeys, the grunts. But one thing was certain, he had saved them from a life much worse, than that of being one of Greed's 'Possessions'. After all, being owned or at least thought of that way, was more preferable than being hungry or homeless or worse...dead.

Greed's empire consisted of several lucrative business's. There were the import/export franchises, if you could dream it, Greed could find it or sell it all over the world. Then there were his casino's and more 'underground' betting syndicates. Oh you had the regular stuff from Craps to Roulette, then you had the stuff you needed an invite for, like Cock and Dog fighting. Naturally a guy like him would have a few strip joints and brothels too, on account of his love for the ladies. They were spread out in the red light district of the city and known for being the best too. Greed had taste and personally picked every girl that worked for him. His night clubs were a great hit also, raking it in every night of the week. He had just ventured into the food industry as well, having opened up a couple of eateries in the affluent part of the city. All in all, Greed was doing very well for himself.

But, he thought as he stood watching out the window, amethyst eyes searching the street below...

...something, was missing in his life. But what?

"Boss, clubs cleaned out now. Front doors are locked up, register has been emptied and the cash put in the safe. Bido and his crew are cleaning up now, with Martel supervising. Dorchet is bringing your car around." A rather large man said. He had broad shoulders and a wide chest, with white hair in a low ponytail. He looked like he was a force to be reckoned with.

"Good work Loa. Martel can handle Bido just fine on her own." Greed replied, turning to reach for his jacket. Slipping into it, he grabbed his hat and settled it upon his head, with a slight tilt to the left "Guess it's time to go check on the other money makers, eh Loa?" he said, grinning as he left his office.

"Right boss." Loa said, following Greed down the stairs and passing the cleaners being watched over by a young woman with short blonde hair and a snake tattoo along her right side, that reached all the way up her neck. She nodded to Loa and Greed as they passed.

"Keep a close eye on those guys Martel, I'm counting on you." Greed said, winking at her and sparing Bido and his crew a glance "I want this place spotless, understand?"

"You have nothing to worry about Greed, I can handle them." Martel replied, with a nod, her stern look spoke volumes of what she would do if they chose to mess her around.

"Y-yes sir, Mr Greed, sir." Bido, a small man with beady eyes, said nervously and bowed his head a bit. He knew his place and wasn't about to invoke Greed's wrath on him, for a poorly done job.

"Let's go Loa, we have other stops, before I head home." Greed said, making his way out the back, towards the rear door that opened out on to the alleyway.

"Right behind you boss." He replied, picking up his coat on the way passed the bar, a long suede brown coat with large lapels on it. He slipped it on, as he and Greed exited into the alleyway.

Mere feet from the steps that led down from the back door, sat a long and wide black car, the back of which had big fins that the tail lights sat on. Wherever you could put chrome, it had been placed. The wheel rims, the bumpers, the door handles, the edging around the black tinted windows, even the hood ornament of the serpent devouring it's own tail-Greed's own trademark-was chrome. Each side panel, had a sweeping design that ran along it, in the the same color as Greed's own eyes. Beneath the car, were neon lights in a brighter amethyst color, making the ground under the car glow eerily. This, was Greed's trade mark car. Everyone in the city knew it. The black and amethyst behemoth, covered in chrome and lighting up the asphalt with it's neons, with the Ouroboros hood ornament...this rare Crown Imperial Limousine...Belonged to the head of the H gang. Belonged, to Greed.

Loa got ahead of Greed and opened the back right side door for him. Greed slipped in and the door was shut after him. Loa then got in the front passenger seat. The driver was Dorchet, a younger man with dark brown spikey hair, matching chocolate eyes and the physique of a martial artist. He knew how to fight, that was for sure, but he also had street smarts too. Something, that made him very useful to Greed. The engine was already running and as Greed settled himself in the back, he gave Dorchet a nod. It was time to get going. The car pulled slowly down the alleyway, till it reached the end and turned gently to the left. The streets were beginning to fill up with cars and people, all heading to work. Dorchet drove towards the red light district, Greed's first stop would be to his brothels. He owned a few, but they were all under the thumb of one madam and she answered, directly to Greed.

It took around an hour, to drive through the streets during the morning rush hour. Dorchet pulled the car up in front of a tall building, that looked like it was some high society multi story mansion. Well, it _had _been that, once. Now it was the top ranking brothel, in the entire red light district. Loa got out and opened the back door for Greed again, who slipped out into the sunlight. Greed gave Loa a hand gesture, that signalled he was to wait by the car. A nod from Loa and Greed was on his way up the front steps. He pushed open the double doors and flooded the entrance hall with warm sunshine. Several woman all stopped and sounded surprised, till they saw whom had entered their work place. Many of them came to greet him, fawning all over him like love sick teenagers. Greed just grinned, loving the attention. These ladies, were also his possessions and he enjoyed them pawing at him. It gave his ego a real boost.

Of course there was one woman, who knew him a bit too well, to be throwing herself at him. The madam who ran this and all the other smaller brothels that Greed owned in this area. She came out of her office, that sat at the end of the long hall lined with rooms. Tall, slender and sleek, with pale unblemished skin and slightly lighter amethyst eyes then Greed's own. Her waist length, wavy black hair fell gently around her shoulders, that were exposed due to the off the shoulder dress she wore. She always looked sexy. Always made sure she dressed to impress and seduce. That was her skill and her job. One of the reasons Greed had chosen her to run this aspect of his empire. His sister, Lust. She was not some shy, weeping willow however...mess with her and she'd cut you down without a second thought. She was as tough, if not more sinister, than Greed himself was. One word from Lust and the girls vanished back into the rooms to clean up, after a busy night of 'entertaining'.

"Aw, now why did ya have to go and spoil my fun? Eh, Lusty?" Greed pouted, almost like a little kid who had his toy taken away, as he walked down the hall towards where she stood.

"It's not as though your ego needs anymore inflating, Greed." Lust retorted, with a small wicked smile "It's plenty big already...and those girls have worked all night long, they need their rest." she added, turning to head into her office.

"You make it sound like having a big ego is a bad thing sis." Greed laughed, following her inside and shutting the door "And they looked ready to please to me, hehehe."

"Yes I'd say having an ego the size of yours, is a very bad thing...it's got you into too much trouble brother dear." Lust said, hopping up to sit on the edge of her desk and crossing her left leg over her right "Enough talk of what you can't have. I take it you want the takings for last night?"

"Ouch, that hurt sis..." Greed placed a hand on his chest and played like she had stabbed him in the heart, then he laughed "Yeah, I'm here to collect. I'm doing the rounds today, before heading home." he settled on one of the plush chairs in front of her desk and propped his feet up on it.

"I see, so you'll be seeing everyone else today then. Try not to fight with Envy when you see him..." Lust said, getting up and heading round the back of her desk "...you two always make digs at each other when your in the same room." she then swatted at his feet "And get your damned feet off my desk! It's not a foot stool!" she snapped.

Greed just laughed at Lust's outburst over a piece of wood. Then he frowned at her comment about him and their bother Envy, always getting under each others skin. It was true they did, but did she have to go and say so?

"It's not my fault that Envy has such a huge chip on his shoulder." Greed shrugged "Not like I ever go there intending to argue with him...he just rubs me up the wrong way and things seem to escalate from there." he said, almost as if he had no control over it "Yeah I will be seeing them all. Making the rounds can be so tiring though."

"Oh stop complaining, you love to collect your profits, admit it." Lust looked up at him slyly "And yes you can help it with Envy, stop encouraging his temper. You always start it somehow." she moved back around the desk with a manilla envelope in her hand and passed it to Greed "We did pretty good last night, some bachelor and his fraternity boys came by looking for a fun time, they stayed half the night and spent well too." she informed him with a smile.

"Oh really? Well sounds like it was action all stations then hahaha, well as long as they spent well and had a good enough time to tell their friends, then it's all good." Greed replied, opening the envelope to take a peek at the earnings, giving off a small whistle at the wad of cash inside it "Damn, they did spend well."

"Indeed they did. Now, shouldn't you be heading off to visit the others?" Lust said, putting a hand on his shoulder "Not that I an trying to be rid of you, but I have preparations to make for tonight, and the girls need their rest too."

"Hahahaha, yeah yeah, I get it. You want me out of your hair." Greed laughed and got to his feet, making for the door, though he turned back as he was leaving "But just remember, sister dear, I own this place. It is mine and always will be." he told her, before closing the door after him.

Greed made his way along the hall, passing swooning girls as he did, giving them a grin that made them almost faint. He left the brothel, Loa opening the car door for him and he got in, Dorchet driving off towards the affluent part of the city, to visit Greed's restaurants. Lust had come out of her office, and watched her brother leaving. She narrowed her eyes and said softly to herself...

"It may be yours now, _brother dear_, but..." That wicked smile returned "...it won't stay that way forever."

000

The more, upmarket, one of Greed's eateries was the large Avarice. Aptly named for the man who owned it and for the chef running it. Another of Greed's brothers, Gluttony. A fat, bald man with an appetite to rival anyone in the world. Though due to his appetite, he had an excellent pallet. Making his cooking, top notch. Greed chose not to stay long here. If he didn't act like he was in a hurry, which he was, then Gluttony would have talked his ear off and tried to shove all manner of foods down his throat. Greed was not in the mood to deal with that. Of course it didn't stop him from flirting, with the waitresses who were still milling around at the end of the night. Some of the girls, didn't go home, staying on to clean up. That meant extra income for them, and as long as they worked for it, Greed was happy to pay them. Of course, it helped they were drop dead gorgeous too. He could never say no to a beautiful woman.

His next stop was the docks. Pride, the eldest of his brothers, running things here. Due to a birth defect, Pride would always be trapped in the body of a child, though his mind would grow normally. He was a shrewd operator. For someone who had to overcome being mistaken for a kid, he did really well and garnered respect from those working under his watchful eye. As usual, Pride made plenty of snide comments to Greed. Idly Greed wondered if coming here before seeing Envy, was a good idea. He was always on edge by the time he got to Envy's place. Maybe, it was Pride's snide comments that set him off. The import/export business was doing exceedingly well. Though, whatever Greed chose to get into, he always seemed to do well at it. Currently, Pride was in charge of running at least a dozen warehouses here at the docks. Everything from perishables to rare pottery to exotic animals and more, were shipped in and out of the city, by H Enterprises.

Greed wasn't best pleased when he visited Wrath, at the main casino. If being spoken down to by Pride wasn't bad enough, he got the self same treatment from Wrath. Even though Greed was older, though he didn't really age like normal so he looked younger, Wrath always came down on him, referring to him being a spoilt brat. He hated that about Wrath. The man gave off the air of a mob boss, with his clean shaven jaw, moustache and slicked back black hair, with his eye patch adding the hint of mystery too. Though the casino was doing incredibly well. Even so early in the morning, it was still packed to the rafters with addicted people trying to beat the house. Watching them from his office, suspended above the main floor, Wrath could see all that went on and with his sharp eyes, he was able to spot cheats and direct security to apprehend them. He ran it, like a military operation.

By the time Greed left there, he was now in possession of several thousands in cold hard cash, hidden in the inner pocket of his jacket. He slid into the back seat of his car and grinned, like the cat that had gotten the cream. He was a very, very wealthy man. But now, he had one last stop to make and he wasn't looking forward to it.

000

As Dorchet pulled the car up outside of a dank looking warehouse on the outskirts of the city, Greed's good mood faded. Now, he had to visit Envy. That never went well. Loa, got out and did as he had been doing all morning, opened the door for Greed and then waited by the car. Making his way inside, Greed could hear the shouts and cheering of men, lots of them. Mixed into the human voices, were the sounds of animals, vicious ones at that. Greed made his way along the dark hallway, to a door at the far end on the left. Opening it, he walked right into a dingy office, that had mesh where there should have been a window, overlooking the main room. There were at least three different enclosures. Low to the ground and circular, with at least a couple dozen men around each. In each enclosure there was a pair of Pit Bull dogs, fighting and biting each other, spraying blood around...to the cheers of the men. It was a horrible thing to see, but, it was something that made Greed a lot of money. And there were many, who enjoyed this kind of 'Entertainment'.

It wasn't to Greed's taste, however.

Standing in one of the corners, was a seriously large man. Built like a Sherman tank and having that intimidating air about him, stood Sloth. Another brother to Greed. He was big, he was strong, but, Sloth was slower intellectually then his other siblings. However that meant he was perfect, for being security in such a venue as this. Opposite the mesh was a desk, raised up on a block, to make it easier to watch over the fights. Sat behind it, with feet upon the desk and a positively maniacal grin plastered on his face, sat Envy. Greed wondered, just how in the heck he had wound up with so many brothers and yet only one sister. Envy broke into his thoughts with a cackle, as one of the fights came to a bloody end.

"So Greed, you like what I done with the place?" Envy suddenly said, grabbing a pork rib off his plate and biting into it "I added a couple more rings, to boost attendance and up the takings. Impressed?" he added, around a mouthful of meat.

"Well, I don't dislike the fact it rakes in more cash." Greed replied in a dull tone "But you know, this isn't really to my taste, Envy." he shot his brother a distasteful glance.

"Ooooh, that's right I forgot..." Envy threw the bone to his dogs, who were chained to the wall nearby, they ravaged it "...little old Greedy boy hates the dog fighting...why bother having it if it's not your bag? Makes no sense to me...though I'm not complaining, I love my job." he laughed, evilly.

"Shut up Envy." Greed bit back "You know I want it all, the money, the women, the sex, the power..." Greed started to spout his rhetoric at Envy, like it was his mantra or something "...you should know that better than anyone, being as we are related. Now, do you have the takings for last night?"

"Oh, cutting to the chase huh?" Envy jumped up from his seat and leaned over the desk a bit "I might have them, but you haven't asked me nicely... little brother." his tone was oozing hatred, his dark amethyst eyes full of contempt.

"I don't have to ask you anything nicely, you old bastard...just get me my money and I'll be out of here." Greed shot back, trying not to get drawn into another fight with his older brother. Greed loathed being younger than almost all his siblings.

"Hahahahaha! You'd like to think you don't have to, but trust me, if you don't..." Envy leaned further over and his tone turned menacing "..you won't get a thing from me. Got it, kid?"

"You just love to hold it over me...that your older. Don't you, Envy." Greed sneered at him, then a grin claimed his lips "What's the matter? Jealous that I'm so young and handsome, while your just old and ugly? Hahaha."

That was it. The straw that broke the camels back. Now, Envy was pissed. He launched himself over the desk at Greed and went for his throat. Greed knew it was coming. He had his hands up and Envy's wrists in his palms, before Envy was even over the desk. They tumbled to the floor and rolled about, as they struggled to gain the upper hand on each other. Greed was finally pinned to the ground, Envy having just a bit more strength than himself. Of course that only meant Envy would never let him hear the end of it.

"Now who's in charge, eh little brother? Hahaha, I do love it when we have our get togethers." Envy's grin was cruel "I always win..hahaha.." he said, getting up.

"Yeah, well that's only on account of you cheating, like always." Greed retorted, getting to his feet and brushing himself off "I hate that this place is such a mess, this suit was expensive ya know." he complained.

"Oh stop whining, it's only a bit of cloth." Envy shot back over his shoulder, then opened a drawer on his desk, pulled out an envelope and tossed it at Greed "There, take your money and get the hell out, I got work to do."

"Ah!" Greed caught the package just before it smacked him in the face "Yeah, yeah...you work? That's a laugh hahaha, only thing you do, is sit there gorging yourself and getting older by the day hahaha.." he said, laughing as he walked out the office.

"Why you! GRRRRAAAAAAAGGGGGHHHHHH!" Was all he heard of Envy, along with the sound of the plate of ribs hitting the door, as Greed walked out chuckling to himself.

Though he usually got into a fight with Envy, he always got the last word in.

Once Greed got in the car and Loa was in the front, Dorchet drove toward Greed's home. Slowing to allow the gates to open up, Dorchet got the sense they were being watched, Loa felt it too and they exchanged a look. Greed was very aware of being watched. He knew he had been under surveillance for a while now. But they would never be able to pin a thing on him. Greed was too careful for that. The car pulled slowly up the drive, as the gates closed behind them, coming to a gentle stop under the front Portico, that was made up of eight tall stone pillars and a heavy concrete roof sat atop them. This was a design feature Greed had insisted on, since it made the house, look more like a mansion. As Greed walked up the stoop and into the house, he spared a glance back over his shoulder, towards the front gate that secured his property.

There, just off to one side of the wall and shrubbery, a wisp of smoke floated passed the gate. His amethyst eyes narrowed. There was only one person he knew, that would be spying on him and who smoked. That guy, was going to wind up in a body bag one day, if he continued to stick his nose in, where it wasn't welcomed. Though Greed had to admit, it was fun to have someone to toy with. He carried on into the house, the doors closing behind him. Dorchet moved the car to the garage, that held more than a few toys, parking it and closing up the garage for the day. It was time to sleep, as he made his way up the steps to the quarters that he and Loa shared above the garage. They both flaked out, almost as soon as they entered their rooms. Greed meantime, was already in bed and sleeping like a baby.

He had his money, he had his house, he had his luxurious lifestyle...but...did he truly have enough to make him happy?


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter 2_

He took another drag off his cigarette, as his bright azure eyes watched the big black behemoth pull up to the gate. It had taken all damn night, but he had finally spotted him. Detective Jean Havoc, had been tailing Greed all night long. He was determined to catch him in some act of criminal behaviour. But, sadly, Greed was far more careful than Jean had thought. Once the car had pulled through the gates, Jean had gotten out of his old beat up green Camero and walked over to the wall next to the gate. Leaning there he peered round a couple times to catch glances of the house and the car. Havoc watched as Greed and his lackeys, went about their business, but then Greed turned and looked back at the gate. Jean ducked behind the shrubs, his pulse sped up. Had he spotted me? He thought. Then when nothing more happened, Jean dared another peek, only to find the car gone and the front stoop empty.

"Damn, I waited all night, for that." Jean muttered to himself, pushing his hat up a tiny bit on his head.

He wore a camel colored suit, that was wrinkled from being sat in his car all night long on his impromptu stake out. His Fedora was mostly the same color as his suit and tilted forward a bit to shade his eyes, save for the dark chocolate brown band, that matched his snake skin boots. His cream shirt was undone a little and his navy blue tie was loose around his neck, still with the knot in it. He hated to look unkempt, but being in his car all night long, would certainly have that effect. He wasn't vain by any means, but he knew, that the ladies loved a smartly dressed handsome man. And it was known publicly that Detective Havoc, loved the ladies. But secretly, some of the men too. He would often be found, frequenting the red light district of the city, in both the straight _and _gay establishments. Jean just loved to have variety in his life. Even if that meant much of what he got up to, had to be kept on the down low.

He walked back to his car and got in, slamming the door shut as that was the only way to close it properly. He idly thought to himself, that he really needed to either upgrade his car or get this one fixed. As he took a drag of his cigarette, almost to the butt, he pinched it between two fingers and rolled down the window. With an easy flick, the last remnants of the little white stick flew through the air and landed in the gutter on the other side of the street. Before that had even landed, Jean was digging out another from his slightly crumpled pack. Popping it between his teeth, he flicked the wheel on his lighter and the flame ignited, searing the end of the cigarette till it burned an angry red color. He then started his car, that sputtered into life and tried, more than once, to cut out on him. He pulled slowly from the curb and passed the main gate to Greed's place. With a final look and a fleeting thought, of something he really shouldn't be thinking of, Jean pressed the gas peddle more and accelerated down the street.

As he drove, Jean wondered just how he was going to escape the wrath of his boss, when he finally showed up to work today. Since, his little stake out, wasn't sanctioned by the top brass. He had done this off his own back. Perhaps, he thought as he drove to the up and coming part of the city, that bordered the shopping district, he could just sneak in without being seen. He knew that if he was to get away with this, he would need to freshen up and get a change of clothes too. He couldn't go into the station wearing yesterdays wrinkled duds. That would be a dead give away. Though, he knew it wouldn't be easy to get passed his boss or the receptionist either...that woman had eyes like a hawk. She always seemed to know what he'd been up to, or into, as the case may be. Jean grinned as he started to concoct a plan to distract her from over analysing him when he got into the office. A little of the Havoc charm, ought to do it, he thought.

It was a good hour and a half, before Jean reached his neighbourhood. It was still in the process of being rejuvenated, with lots of building work and refurbishment work still ongoing. He had to weave the car a bit, to avoid hitting the collection of large equipment that was being used by the workmen to do their jobs. Once beyond those, Jean pulled into his small drive, as the garage door opened automatically for him. He stopped the car around an inch from the wall, as the door lowered behind him. The room went from light to dark again and it was any wonder he didn't trip over or walk into something, with the lack of light. But Jean had done this a million times, so he easily found the door that led into the stairwell. He took the steps quickly to reach his top floor, loft apartment. Opening the door, he stepped in and shut it with the heel of his boot, while at the same time hooking his hat on the hat stand by the hall table. Of course it wasn't really a hall, but it served as one.

The whole apartment was open plan, with the only areas closed off into rooms, being his bathroom, bedroom and the spare room, that served as his gym/guest room. It wasn't a large place by any means, but it suited Jean. He had a nice simple kitchen along the wall to his right, with a window in the middle above the sink. His clutter covered dinning table, sat just on the fringes of his kitchen floor, with it's white and black diamond tiling. The rest of the flooring was oak wood, with nicks and gauges out of it in places, that only added to it's charm. Beyond the dinning table, sat his living room, with two big brown plush suede couches and a dark brown wooden coffee table in the middle of an old shaggy looking rug, with the television sat on the wall opposite one of the couches. Windows framed either side of the television and there was another next to the over crowded bookshelf opposite the second couch.

To the left of the living room, was the first of the closed off rooms, his bedroom. Through the open door you could see a large messy bed within, a couple free standing closets and matching bedside tables. One of which held his classic style alarm clock, the type with the big bells on the top. Further along the wall, you had the bathroom door and then nearer the 'hall', you had the guest/gym room. There was a bed in the guest room, though it was burdened with dumbbells and other small gym equipment. His bathroom was always clean, though it did look like a man lived there, with all the newspapers tucked into the book rack by the toilet. One man and his reading upon the porcelain throne. All in all, the apartment was pretty neat, considering it was Jean who lived here. He never professed to be the tidiest person in the world. Making his way toward his bedroom, Jean was already undoing his tie and slipping it from around his neck with one hand, while working open the rest of the buttons on his shirt with the other hand.

Entering his room, he threw the tie onto the bed, the shirt joining it swiftly as he slipped it from his shoulders, his white tank top followed next as he pulled it over his head. He worked his belt loose, as he toed off his boots, loosing his balance a bit and letting himself drop unceremoniously onto the end of his bed. He discarded the pants and his socks too, then slipped out of his brown boxers. Now in nothing but his birthday suit, Jean made for the bathroom, hopping into the shower for a quick freshen up. A few minutes later and a nice steam was filling the room, as Jean carefully lathered his body with the soap. Rivulets of suds ran down his flesh, over his chiselled abs and his firm pectoral muscles. Jean was no slouch, when it came to keeping his body in shape. He worked out everyday, without fail. Once done with his body, he moved to quickly wash his shaggy blond hair, that was most often times hidden by his hat. Once the shampoo was sufficiently lathered up, Jean stepped fully under the streaming hot water and let it wash over him, rinsing away all the suds and leaving his sexy body gleaming with the sheen of water on it.

Jean stepped from his shower and wrapped a towel around his waist, grabbing another to dry his hair with. He wandered out into his kitchen, rubbing his hair with the towel using his right hand to do it. With his left hand, he opened the fridge door and grabbed a can of Red Bull, the box with the left over pizza in it and a half eaten Baloney sandwich that was wrapped in foil. As he continued to dry his hair off, Jean flipped open the pizza box to reveal three slices left of his favourite topping...Meat Feast, with extra spicy Chorizo on it. He then cracked open the Red Bull and took a long swig of it, downing almost the entire can in one go. Finally satisfied with the dryness of his hair, Jean slung the towel around his neck and proceeded to devour the left overs set out before him, while finishing his drink and going for a second from the fridge. After eating his makeshift breakfast, Jean set about getting dressed again. After fully drying off, he tossed the two towels aside, opening a draw he pulled on a pair of dark blue boxers, then a black tank top was slipped over his head and across his strong chest.

He then shut the drawer and made for one of his closets, opening it to reveal, a whole rail full of suits that looked miraculously similar in color. Ranging from Camel right down to light beige and cream. Seemed Jean, didn't put much stock in having different colors for work. He picked a hanger that held a mid beige shade of suit, slipping into the pants and adding his belt with the specially made buckle, he had gotten himself upon being promoted to Detective. It was a gaudy little thing, with the image of a busty woman on it. Not very professional, but he loved it. He then reached in again, to the rail behind the first one, fishing out a clean shirt. The one he got, was a pale green color, almost like that of the grass on a golf course fairway. He slipped the shirt on, then did the buttons up and looked on the back of the closet door, to choose from the range of ties there. He picked a pale gold one and set about making the loop, before adding it around his neck and turning the shirt collar up, then back down once the tie was in place.

Putting on his gun holster and sliding into his jacket, Jean then went back into the bathroom. A swipe of his hand, to check his stubble rating and he deemed it not worth shaving for today, so he just splashed on a bit of cologne and roughly combed his wayward hair, before going back for his boots. Pulling those on, he was ready to face the day. On his way out the door, Jean grabbed his Fedora and popped it on his head, before locking up and making his way back down to his car. A quick clean out of the gathered fast food garbage, tossing it in the trash can by the door, Jean got in and started the engine. The door opened again automatically and he reversed out and down the small drive, back onto the cluttered street, ready to head to the station...and the chance of either being caught out by his boss, or the bosses favourite receptionist. He switched on the radio and idly listened to the daily news being read out, in between older tunes from when he was a young kid.

Ah, the memories. He thought to himself, as he drove to the center of the city.

000

As he pulled into the parking lot that was situated at the side of the police precinct, Jean was greeted by the attendant there, Denny Brosh. A young man, only a few years younger than Jean was himself. Denny had longer blond hair, that stopped just above his jaw line, with bangs that framed his face. He was always a might nervous, but ultimately a cheery soul. And it was no small secret, that he harboured a deep affection for a particular receptionist in the office. Maria Ross worked along side the boss's favourite spy, Riza Hawkeye. As Jean stopped the car to be greeted by Denny, they exchanged the usual courtesies and then the conversation turned to something more in the joking nature.

"Morning detective Havoc." Denny said cheerily, getting his clipboard and writing up a slip to put in the window of Jean's car "When are you gonna upgrade to a new car sir? Isn't thing old thing a junker by now? Hahaha."

"Mornin' Denny." Jean replied with a pleasant smile, then he burst out laughing "Hahahahaha, yeah well on the wage I pull in, there's little chance of me upgrading to anything other than another junker." Then he patted the steering wheel "Besides, this baby has life in her yet."

At that moment, the car sputtered and died on him, making him blink and desperately try to get it started again, as cars honked behind him. Jean was about ready to flip them the bird, when the Camero started with a cough.

"Yeah, seems like she does, hahaha." Denny retorted, as the car jerked a bit, before moving into the lot, with a small cloud of smoke trailing it.

"Yeah, yeah smart ass." Jean waved as he drove into the lot "Have a good day Denny." Jean called, then added with a yell "And get to asking that girl out already! Hahaha!"

At the last comment, Denny Brosh fumbled with his clipboard, before dropping it and annoying the hell out of the guy who had been behind Jean. Leaving Jean to laugh at how typical the boy was. He found a parking spot and pulled in, shutting off the engine and getting out, into the warm sunshine. He slipped a pair of sunglasses on, tucked his hands in his pants pockets and made his way inside. It was now or never. Time to face the music, as they say. He entered the main doors and quickly ascended the wide staircase that led up to the first floor, that held the Investigations and Homicide Divisions. To the untrained eye, it looked like one big room with many desks sat behind the main reception one. Of course, to those who worked there, it was easy to tell one division from the other. Namely there were two distinct private offices. On opposite sides of the big room, one on the left of the stairs and one on the right.

The one on the left, was for Investigations, headed by Captain Meas Hughes. The other on the right, was for the Homicide division, headed by Jean's boss, Captain Roy Mustang. The two men were old academy buddies, so they worked well together in such close quarters. Both of their respective teams, were highly trained, well respected men and women. Jean neared the top of the stairs and caught sight of Riza Hawkeye, Captain Mustang's little spy in the office. Jean sauntered up to the front desk, placed one arm on it and leaned all suave like against it, tipping his hat up a little and his sunglasses down his nose a bit to peer over the top of them. He let his bright azure eyes, rake over Riza as she sat there doing her paper work. She wore a dark navy blue skirt suit, with a slightly frilly white blouse and black two inch high heeled shoes, with her hair pinned back but still mostly loose. It made her look professional and pretty at the same time.

He had to come up with just the right opening line, to catch her off guard and make sure she didn't interrogate him over his lateness or the fact he probably looked like he hadn't had any sleep. Which he hadn't, and not for the best of reasons either.

"Hey there beautiful...how's your mornin' been going then? Hm?" He asked, voice like silk and an unlit smoke hanging from his lips.

"My morning has been fine." Riza replied, never once looking up and then added "And your late, you haven't slept and you smell like left over fast food, Jean."

"Uh! No way!" Jean self consciously sniffed his clothing "I showered not too long ago and I put cologne on too! You telling me you can _still _smell it?" He asked, stunned she could tell.

"I can tell on account of your car always stinks after you spend all night in it and no matter if you clean yourself and change your clothes, it still permeates every inch of you and it is disgusting Jean." Riza finally looked up at him, her deep coffee brown eyes beholding him with a stern look, she knew and she wasn't about to let it drop either "What were doing last night? Spying on that guy again?"

Jean was in shock, literally. She had pegged him down to the last detail. How the hell did she do that! His mind screamed. But he had a new pressing issue, she was asking questions, he truly didn't want to answer.

"No." Was the simple answer Jean gave her, before he started to make his way round the front desk, intending on going to his and relaxing a bit till he absolutely had to do something else.

That wasn't about to happen, just yet. Captain Mustang suddenly threw open his office door and barked loudly across the room.

"Havoc! My office! Now!" Then he wandered back into his own inner sanctum, leaving the door open for Jean to enter.

"Uh oh..." Jean muttered to himself, as he flinched when Mustang yelled at him, slowly making his way over to the open doorway, he tapped on the door frame "You screamed chief?"

Captain Roy Mustang. A handsome man, not as tall as Jean but still held himself with grace and poise. His dark obsidian eyes could strike fear into any new recruit. However Jean, had worked with him a long time now and was pretty much immune to any of his boss's tricks. Roy Mustang, with his ebony hair, that seemed neat yet messy at the same time, was stood behind his desk glaring at Jean with his hands planted firmly on the wooden desk top. His outfit of choice was black pants, with the matching jacket slung over the back of his leather desk chair. Crisp royal blue shirt, with his red/black diamond print tie tied loosely round his neck, from too much yanking on it while stressing out. Spit shinned black shoes and his black/brown Fedora hung on the coat rack with his long navy blue trench coat.

The man had taste, as all his gear, was designer stuff.

"Get in here, shut the door and explain yourself Jean!" Mustang barked again, his expression leaving no room for argument.

"Is that an order, Captain?" Jean replied smirking, he knew it was a bad idea to wind up his superior, but it was too much fun.

"What the hell did you think!" Mustang roared "That I was _inviting _you to do so! Yes, that was an order!" he shouted even louder, his temper getting away from him a bit.

Jean did as he was ordered to. He entered the office, shut the door and promptly parked himself in one of the chairs that sat in front of the desk, putting his feet up on it too, with that same smoke stick hanging from between his teeth. Mustang fumed, slapping away Jean's feet from his desk.

"Don't be so cocky Jean." He told him, then leaned over the desk more, his tone got low to the deck "Now, explain to me why...why you were following the head of the H gang, without prior authorisation for a stake out? And it had better be good Jean..or else it will be your badge."

"I was working off a hot tip boss." Jean said, nonchalantly gesturing with his hand "I heard something was gonna go down with Greed and his cronies. And as I didn't have time to get authorisation, I just went with it." He met Mustang's glare "Problem with that Chief?"

"My problem, Jean, is that your actions meant I got a call today from Greed's lawyers." Mustang grit his teeth, he hated being backed into a corner, without a way out "And they threatened this whole department, on account of _your _actions, you idiot!"

"Oh..." Jean paused for thought, that made things a bit stickier than he first thought they might get "Listen boss, I never thought he would actually see me. I guess after being in my car all night long, I got a little bit sloppy. It won't happen again." he said, azure meeting obsidian and holding the stare.

"It had better not, or else I am putting you on suspension. You hear me Jean?" Mustang pointed at him for emphasis "I won't have one of my team putting this whole department in jeopardy. Am I clear?"

"Crystal, boss." Jean nodded, then got up to leave, stopping by the door he said over his shoulder "By the way, I did see him go to all his business's and not for social calls either."

"Really now..." Mustang said thoughtfully, then snapped "No more stake outs without my say so Jean...got it?"

"Roger that chief." Jean replied, walking out the office with a grin on his lips, info always seemed to ease the situation.

Jean moved to his desk and settled in his wooden backed chair, making it creak under his weight. He reluctantly started in on his paperwork, that had piled up since he was late. That, and there was a lot from the passed couple weeks on this desk, under all the mess. It was going to be a long day.

000

The early evening temperatures were muggy and the buildings still held the heat of the day. Jean wasn't happy. He had been hoping to get out of work early and head home to crash out and sleep the whole night through. But it seemed, that wasn't to be. He wasn't currently at home or sleeping or even comfortable. He was at some Research and Development facility, on the northern most edge of the city, looking at the body of some scientist lying on the ground outlined in chalk. He was sweating in his suit, a line of wetness under the sweatband of his hat and trickling down his face. He wiped a palm over his face and watched as one of his colleagues looked over the scene in more detail. This guy, Vato Falman, was a stickler for details. But Jean was glad to be paired with him. That meant, Jean could do what he did best, talk to the witnesses.

Though there was a distinct lack of witnesses to this horrible event. The guy had been slashed through, like with a sword or some other highly sharp object. Well, that was how it looked to Jean. Vato on the other hand, was determined to analyse every last tiny shred of evidence, before making his report to Captain Hughes. Who would then in turn have a meeting with Captain Mustang. There were only a handful of people gathered around the taped off area. Jean had to be very careful not to step in the dead mans blood, which was pooled around his body like a crimson pond. It was slick still, meaning the guy hadn't been dead long, as the blood had yet to coagulate fully. His clothing was soaked in the stuff too. He was laying face down, in the most public area possible...the parking lot. Right next to what Jean had been told by the terrified receptionist who had found him, was his own vehicle. A pretty nice ride, Jean thought idly, a black Chrysler 300c sedan. Not bad for a scientist, he grinned.

The terrified you woman in question, Miss Sheska, was currently shaking and being watched over by the medics. He walked over to her and placed his right foot on the bottom step, that was just under the open doors of the ambulance. Jean then leaned his right forearm on his thigh and gave her a gentle smile. This was why he was good at questioning the witnesses, he was a smooth talker with most all people. That was one of his skills, one of his traits and he used it to the very best of his ability. With sometimes stunning effects. He couldn't count the number of times, he'd been given phone numbers from women, while conducting an investigation. Indeed, being a charmer, had it's perks. But for now, he was simply using that charm to relax and ease the fear of the young girl before him. She looked to be the nerdy type, so he went easy on her, being sweet to calm her down. She had shoulder length slightly wavy brown hair and matching chocolate eyes, that were framed by glasses.

"Hey there Miss Sheska, I'm Detective Jean Havoc." He said in a kind tone of voice, to which she gave a meek smile "I just want to ask you a few questions, okay? There's nothing to be scared of, I promise, I don't bite...hehe...alright?" he chuckled.

"A-alright, I'll answer what ever I can sir." Sheska replied shyly, still shaking a bit as she looked up at him with scared eyes, but his tone and the chuckle had her relaxing more "I don't think I can help with much though, I barely knew him."

"That's alright, anything you can tell me will be helpful alright." Jean said, then placed his left hand on her shoulder and used his thumb to rub gently "It's gonna be just fine, I know things like this can be scary, but just try and relax."

That simple touch of hand to shoulder, had her release some tension. Jean could feel her body loosening up under his gentle touch. Of course, Jean was skilled in other areas of _relaxation _but for now, this was enough to quell the poor girls fears.

"Alright, I'll do my best." Sheska replied, looking up at the handsome man with a bit more of a smile this time.

"Okay then, lets start simple shall we..." Jean said, pulling his pen and pad from his inner jacket pocket "Prior to an hour ago, had you seen the victim before in the facility at all?" he asked her.

"Yes, on occasion." Sheska replied with a nod "I work the front reception desk, so I see all the staff as they come and go." she picked at the blanket around her.

"Had you ever spoken to him? Or were you ever aware of what his job was here?" Jean continued, scribbling things down as he was told it.

"N-no, he would just walk in and head right to his office. I'm just a simple receptionist after all." There was a soft nervous giggle, signs she wasn't as scared now "I think he was involved in the Bio-Chem side of the facility. They have at least three different departments for that, each one does something slightly different to the other two. But I don't know exactly what, I'm sorry." she told him.

"Haha, don't worry, it all helps with my investigation." Jean reassured her, then scribbled those notes down "So Bio-Chem huh? Do you know if there was ever any competition between the three sections? Maybe a rivalry?" Jean looked up at her, keeping his expression soft.

"Oh, alright..." Sheska giggled a bit and even blushed a little too, she'd never had a man be so sweet to her before and he _was_ a looker after all "Hmm...well I know that the Owner of the facility, encourages competition, to get the best out of her staff. Something about, survival of the fittest or something like that. So I suppose there would be a little rivalry, in the healthy sense." by now she had her finger to her chin in thought.

"I see, well yeah healthy rivalry is always a good way to increase productivity I guess..." Jean replied, then he came to the nitty gritty of his questions "So you were on your way to your car, about to leave for the day when you found him? What alerted you? Did you see him or the blood first?"

"Well I..." Sheska pulled the blanket closer to her and her voice got so quiet, it was hard to hear her "I saw his feet and the red pool...and I thought he had fallen and spilled something..so I went to see..and he...he was..I'm sorry! I can't!" she suddenly broke down, cupping her mouth and crying.

Jean rubbed her shoulder again, trying to calm her once more, since he had effectively upset her. She seemed to calm slowly, but he chose to finish off the questioning for now, he wouldn't get much out of her if she was prone to getting hysterical when asked about the discovery of the body.

"It's alright, that will be all for now okay." Jean soothed her "I may need to talk to you again, would that be alright? At a later date?" he asked her, gaining a nod in answer "Alright then, thank you for your time Miss Sheska."

Jean turned to walk back to Vato, when he stopped dead in his tracks. Barely having placed his foot back on the ground, he was struck by the most stunning sight he had seen in his entire life. A vision so lovely, he was speechless and dumbstruck. Now Jean was never prone to falling head over heels at first sight, he truly had never believed in that stuff till now. There she stood. Surrounded by at least five men in black suits. Most of which, held briefcases. That meant one thing and one thing only. Lawyers. Jean hated them. They were a law enforcement nightmare. They seemed to be talking amongst themselves and scanning over the scene.

But she, stood stock still and glared at what was before her. She wore a traditional style Kimono, that was mostly Burgundy red in color, with a pale blue fading into dark blue at the bottom and a black Panther seemingly stalking around the edge of the garment. At her left side, sat a sword in it's sheath. It looked to be quite long and, Jean wagered, it might have been a Katana. The sheath was decorated with a sweeping silver Dragon emblem and it looked as though that pattern, continued onto the hilt too. It was all in black and silver, very stylish. Highly dangerous too. Her feet were clad in stiletto boots, they looked to be the knee high kind, with a zipper up the inner edge. Her hair was the color of pure sunshine. Long, flowing to her mid back and sweeping over the right side of her face, covering one eye. But the one Jean could see, the eye that glared at the events unfolding before her, made his heart stop for a second. The coolest of ice blue eyes, surveyed all.

Vato came over and stood next to Jean, they both looked at the group of men, lead by the beautifully stunning, yet terrifying looking woman with the sword at her hip. The lawyers clucked around her, arguing back and forth. But she seemed unperturbed by their bickering's. She noticed Jean and Vato watching her. Her frown deepened, as she gave them both a disgusted expression. Vato sighed, Jean almost gasped. He was love struck, for the first time in his life.

"Vato...who is she?" Jean asked his colleague, as he absent-mindedly licked his lips "And why is she surrounded by those lawyers?"

"You mean you don't know Jean?" Vato sounded shocked, his deep straight laced tone wavered a little bit "That is the owner of this facility...Olivier Mira Armstrong, current head of the Armstrong family and..." he hushed his voice "Suspected leader of the M Syndicate.

"What!" Jean spun his head to look at Vato "Are you serious! _SHE_ is the head of the M Syndicate? That..." he looked back at her "...vision of ultimate beauty...is a criminal?"

"Yeah she is, and keep your damn voice down Jean!" Vato scolded him "But it's not confirmed. She is too careful to be found out like that. And don't get any ideas, Romeo, she is completely out of your league."

Vato then slapped Jean's back and threw him off balance enough, to make him loose his footing a bit and look...rather the fool.

"Hey! Says who Vato?" Jean retorted as they went back to the spot where the body had been, since the coroner had now removed it and it was on the gurney in a body bag "I can get any woman I want...I'll have you know." he said confidently.

"Hey ya know, those who blow their own trumpets, wind up the losers in the end Jean." Vato warned him, then laughed "I know she wouldn't go for you...your too much of a pretty boy for her tastes. She likes her men, big and muscular...so I've heard."

"Oh yeah? Muscular huh?" Jean said, pondering it "I can do that...I work out anyways, wouldn't hurt to amp it up some." he laughed.

"Your incorrigible Jean, you know that?" Vato retorted, as he set about photographing more things "You won't win her...I guarantee it." he said over the click of the camera.

"Is that so?" Jean said, then glanced at her again, saying in a lower more thoughtful tone "We'll see about that..."


	3. Chapter 3

_Chapter 3_

It was disgraceful, in her point of view. Completely despicable. That someone would dare,_ dare_ to murder one her staff and on the very grounds of the facility too. That was brazen of them. Olivier Mira Armstrong, was not a happy woman. The lawyers around her, were driving her mad with their arguing. As she watched the cops and medics working, she noticed one of the men in suits looking at her, almost staring. That just annoyed her further. She hated to be stared at and in return, she frowned at the man. The tall blond, with a cigarette dangling from his lips. That was another thing she hated, smokers. They left their disgusting cigarette butts everywhere. Olivier hated mess. She was neat and clean cut personally, and she liked her surroundings to be the same way. This event, this murder, ruined that organised feel she had here. She was a person, of no nonsense and she lived her life by that simple principle as well. No fuss, no mess, no screw ups.

No excuses.

"...I'm telling you it has to have been done by the H gang!" One lawyer said insistently "Who else could possibly want to ruin things here or get their hands on our research!"

"Oh shut up you old coot! Why would someone who is only interested in money want our research!" Another shot back, glaring and pointing a finger.

"That's just it! He could sell our secrets for a fortune on the black market!" A third added, lifting a hand into the air, as he got a bit animated with his gesturing.

"I still say it could be Lady Armstrong's enemy, General Raven. " The second lawyer persisted "He has been trying to buy her out on this for years!"

"No, that old fart doesn't have the testicular nerve to pull something like this off." The third replied, the first lawyer nodding in agreement.

Their bickering continued, until Olivier chose to shut them up.

"Shut up you bunch of old hens!" she barked, then turned to glare at them all "I don't want to hear another word from any of you! Am I clear on that!"

"Y-yes lady Olivier!" The first said in a scared voice, retreating back a little from the scary woman with the sword.

"Of c-course ma'am. Our apologies." The second man said, shrinking away like a violet in the hot summer sun.

"We are truly sorry my lady.." the third lawyer added, trying not to look into that ice cold stare of hers, failing as a shiver ran up his spine.

Lawyers they may have been, but cowards they all were. That was her opinion anyway.

"Oh dear, stand at the ready fellows..." The second Lawyer said suddenly, then tipped his head in the direction of Jean and Vato heading their way "...cops on the way."

"Don't worry lady Olivier, we won't allow them to badger you." The third said, then cowered a bit more, as that icy glare intensified "F-f-forgive my impertinence."

"I don't need snivelling little men like you, to protect me." Olivier said sharply "I can take care of myself perfectly well."

Olivier watched, as the two men drew closer and seemed unphased by her icy glare. Alright, so they were unaffected, from their current distance. That would soon change, Olivier thought, when they got closer. Jean and Vato made their way over to the group. They exchanged a glance that told of how they felt this was going to go down. Not very well, apparently. Once they came to a stop in front of the blonde and her gaggle of wimps in suits, they surveyed them and then took to asking questions. The lawyers were quick to answer many of them, trying their best to not allow Olivier to answer a thing. That is until she banished them all back inside. Their clucking had become tiresome and she was done with them all. She would handle this herself, as she always did when something arose that needed _taken care of_.

"Do you have any intention of allowing my staff back to work, within this decade, detectives?" She asked coldly, standing stock still like nothing could shake her.

"Well that will take some time, ma'am, as the ME has only just removed the body and we can't release the scene till the CSI's have completed documenting everything." Vato replied, matter of factly, like he always did.

"I see..." Olivier narrowed her eyes at the man "...and just how long will _that _take then? I have a business to run here and you are preventing that." She bit out harshly.

"Ma'am, I assure you, our teams are working as fast as humanly possible, but they have to do their jobs and do them right to make sure we can catch whomever committed this crime." Jean replied, all cocky like and trying to impress her.

"Is that meant to make me think more of you? That you can spout that jargon at me and think I will just wilt at the sound of your voice?" Olivier fixed him with that icy stare and made damn sure her tone was oozing with how disgruntled she was.

This was her space and they were an invading force she had to dispose of, quickly. Nothing but flies buzzing around her, like she was the prize mare standing in a hot pasture. Jean was taken aback, he had never had a woman react quite like that before, to his charms. They usually fawned all over him or started gushing at him by the time he got done with his little speech. But oh no, not this lady. She was different and held an air of danger about her. Jean was intrigued, he was aroused and more importantly, he wanted her. Damn but he wanted her. Seems that the one thing Jean had failed to find in all his years of romancing men and women alike, was someone with the strong personality to control him and not the other way around. Jean wanted to loose control at least once and this icy eyed, radiant woman, with the hard stare, seemed like the one to do it. Olivier sensed he was attracted to her, hell who wouldn't be? But he was not her type at all. She didn't go for the pretty boys or the players, she wanted a man with the smarts to know what he wanted and the testicular fortitude to go after it. That was her type, didn't matter if they were muscle men or slender, long as they had the balls to match their sheer nerve, then that was all she asked for.

"I..uh..well.." Jean was left speechless now, as he hadn't expected her to see right through him like he was pure glass, now he had no clue what to say "I uh, suppose not. Still it will take time."

"Yes ma'am, at least a couple of days, to be sure the scene if fully processed and all the evidence is collected." Vato intervened, trying to save Jean's ass in this situation "We do apologise for any inconvenience ma'am, but we have to do our jobs."

"Tch! Doing your jobs? If you had been doing your jobs in the first place, this whole situation would never have happened!" Olivier sneered "I have been on at the mayor for some time now, about the issues with my rivals pulling stunts to steal my research. But what have you and your buddies been doing? Absolutely nothing! That's what! Doing your jobs...what a joke!" She looked pissed beyond compare.

"Now ma'am, we were unaware of any such issues...had we been we would have invest-" Vato started to say, but was cut off by Olivier.

"Save it! Your frankly ridiculous spiel about 'Doing your jobs' and 'Not being aware of the troubles' is not an excuse!" She then glared directly at Vato and made the poor man gulp hard "Get out of my sight, get this mess cleaned up and let my staff get back to work! Am I clear!"

"Y-yes m-ma'am b-but y-you s-see..." Poor Vato was now stuttering and falling all over his own words, clearly he didn't handle strong women too well, but Jean was still not phased by her.

"We'll do our very best ma'am, to get things cleaned up and let you all get back to work. But I can't say how long it will take." Jean said, giving her his best 'Hey I'm hot, so are you, and we both know it' look, though it seemed to sail right over her head.

"Whatever! Just get to it!" Olivier barked, then turned and stalked back into the building, her kimono floating behind her as the slightly warm breeze whipped her hair this way and that.

"Damn she was scary." Vato commented as he watched her vanish, before turning to go back to his job.

"Scary? Heh, more like perfect." Jean replied, gaining a shake of the head from his friend, as they moved back to the scene itself.

000

Striding passed her staff and the group of mother hen lawyers, Olivier made straight for her office, that was on the top floor of the tall building. After riding the elevator to the top, the doors opened directly onto her office and she walked in. As she rounded her desk, she unhooked her sword and set it to rest against the big piece of marble furniture. The whole thing was made of dark grey marble, from the ornate Dragon carved legs, to the smoothly polished surface that reflected her own image back at her. The walls were adorned with dark red paint, black detailing around the edges of the doors and windows, with oriental style paintings hung in particular spaces along the walls. There were large black leather chairs and one that was oversized, just for good measure. That was _her _seat. While conducting important meetings in here. In certain corners of the room and flanking the main window behind her desk, were potted Bamboo plants, with their green leaves and camel colored stems. Sheer black blinds hung over both the side and main windows, to keep the worst of the suns glare out. The floor was mostly a gloss finish tile, with a couple oriental rugs throw down in places.

It looked very masculine and very clean too. But that was how she wanted it. Olivier drew strength from the way she had her office decorated. It was like all her will and passion for power, were embodied in this one room. Though to be fair her entire mansion looked this way, after she had stripped it out and had the whole place redecorated to suit her tastes more. Oriental was the theme, that she had chosen. Her own personal disciplines, drawn from the teachings of Japanese and Tibetan philosophy. She always aimed to keep her emotions under control, save for channelling her anger into a more productive use. Namely, yelling at her staff and her lawyers, along with anyone else who deemed it worth trying her patience. She rested back in her large brown leather chair and thought for a moment. She had an inkling of whom might have wanted to get to her top researcher and murder him. But she needed proof. That would not be easy to get. It was then she noticed a hand written invitation note on the top of her in-tray. Reaching over, Olivier glanced at it. The writing was ornately done, Calligraphy if she wasn't mistaken-and she never was-as she looked at it. Turning it over, her eyes widened at the surprise, of whom the invite was from and for what event.

There neatly written in perfectly feminine writing, were the words...

Master Greed

requests your presence

Olivier Mira Armstrong

at the

Devils Nest Night Club

For the annual Down and Dirty Party

He would be grateful of your attendance

Promptly at 8 O'clock Pm

Friday evening

The 17th of July

She knew that this would be the perfect opportunity, to get close to the one she needed information from. Olivier could turn on the charm when needed, if it was necessary. She hated to pander to the whims of men, with feminine whiles, but sometimes it was the only way she got anything. No matter, she would get what she desired, one way or another. She noted the date on her desk top calender. This evening was the night the event was being held. So, she would find out sooner rather than later, it seemed. Though it did puzzle her as to why, he had chosen to invite her at all. They weren't exactly on the best of terms. In fact, they pretty much hated each other. So it did strike her as peculiar, that she had gotten this invite at all. Tossing the piece of elegantly emblazoned card onto the desk, Olivier pondered a moment on how to gain the desired information. She needed to get it quickly and without too much effort. So how? It occurred to her then, as a devious smile crept across her lips, just how she was going to get it. Greed was a man well know for his womanising ways and that would be something she could use to her advantage.

Standing from her chair, Olivier walked to one of the side rooms off her main office. It was not unheard of that she would work through the night here, and as such she had converted two of the smaller office rooms into a luxurious self enclosed living space. It was moderate by her standards, but adequate for her needs. There was a small living room area, with a long cushy couch in front of a wood burning style stove, that had two rings on it for cooking. There was a breakfast bar built into the wall, with a pair of sturdy stools under it. There was a bed in the opposite corner of the room, by a window and a small closet that held mere essentials in it. Going to it, Olivier opened the doors and glanced inside to see what she had that might work for this evening. Not a lot, she discovered to her dismay. All the clothes in here, were meant for meetings and other such formal occasions. Olivier frowned, for a moment unsure as to how to solve this issue. Of course her intelligent mind, quickly solved it, before it bothered her too much. She headed back to her desk and picked up the phone, dialling up the number for the annex to her mansion, where the rest of her family lived. It rang for a few moments till a sweet toned girl picked up.

"_Hello_?" She said, sounding shy and uncertain of herself, the sounds of old style marching music in the background and some energetic conversation going on, between two men.

"Catherine. This is Olivier. I need you assistance." Olivier replied, in a matter of fact tone, as she lifted the main body of the phone and walked to the window, to glare down at the mess the cops were making below.

"_Oh? What it is sister? You need a party invite?" _Catherine asked sweetly, thinking her older sister wanted to go out for the night or something.

"No. I have one already." Olivier sneered at the busying people below "I have nothing to wear and that is what I need your assistance with." she finished.

"_Oh! Well that's no problem sister, I can certainly help with that._" The young girl sounded more chipper now than before "_What sort of event is it? That way I know what to get you._"

"I need something to impress a womaniser and help me gain his trust, so that I might gleam some information from him. Can you work with that?" Olivier told her, not mincing words in the least, that wasn't her way after all.

"_Hehehehe._" Catherine giggled softly over the line "_Oh sister dear, you really don't hold anything back do you? Yes I can work with that, you'll be stunning and irresistible haha, just trust me. Do you need me to fetch it to you, or will you be coming home?_" she asked finally.

"I will need it here, there is still all this mess with the cops and I won't be able to make it home in time to change there and then head out." Olivier now moved back to settle in her chair, leaning back a little bit as she held the receiver in her left hand.

"_Alrighty, leave it with me. I'll get you the best looking outfit and bring it right over to you sister._" Young Catherine told her, then asked in a more serious tone "_There are police there? What happened? Your not hurt are you?_" she asked, voice laced with concern.

"No, I'm not hurt. One of my best researches was killed in the parking lot. I have an idea who did it, but I need to be sure before I act on it." Olivier replied, then glanced at her sword "When I find out who did this, I will cut them down myself."

"_Oh your always so scary sister dear. Honestly is it any wonder you don't have a beau in your life? __If you go around acting all macho like that, hehehe._" Catherine giggled, like this teasing was completely common place to her.

"Well now, if I didn't have the balls to deal with things myself, no one else would." Olivier bit back, with a snort of indignation.

"_Brother could you know._" Was the response Catherine gave her older sister and now matriarch of the Armstrong family.

"BAH! That weakling couldn't handle what I do! His constitution is far too soft!" She retorted with disgust, like the mere thought of her younger brother trying to run this business and be head of the family was preposterous.

"_Alex isn't that weak sister and he has what it takes I think. But then I suppose you know what is best don't you? Oh well, never mind that now, I have some shopping to do for you._" She cheerily giggled "_I shall see you very soon sister, with your clothing and shoes. You will certainly turn some heads hehehe._"

"Spare me, I know how you idolise him. And yes I do know what it is best and you should never forget that Catherine." Olivier scoffed, then nodded and shut her eyes a moment "Very well, I trust your judgement on this. I will see you soon."

"_Okay Olivier lets leave it there shall we, I don't want to fight about it okay, bye for now._" Catherine replied and then hung up the phone, the line buzzing with deadness in Olivier's ear.

Setting the receiver down in it's cradle, Olivier rested a moment with her eyes closed, to think on what she would do about the cops outside. She had this inkling that, they would tail her this evening. No matter, she was good at getting out of most all situations. Even if they got wind of where she was going and whom she would be talking with, that mattered not to her. She would be investigating this on her own terms at any rate. She refused to leave it all to those bumbling law men. They were all hopeless in her view. Too soft, to really achieve anything. She stood once more and looked out the window again, at the people below. Many of the vehicles and onlookers had filtered away now, leaving only her staff whom were still being questioned, her clucking lawyers and the detectives in charge of the scene. The coroner's van slowly drove off, as the CSI's started the arduous task of collecting and logging all the evidence. She didn't pity them their job. She only wanted it done right. And in her view, that meant doing it herself, for the most part at least. It would be some hours yet, before they all left and her sister would arrive with her outfit, Olivier set about doing her usual work in order to pass the time.

000

With the time rolling by, till the clock struck six thirty, Olivier had been lost in her paperwork. That was until her younger sister, Catherine, arrived with her outfit for the nights event. It had stunned Olivier as to just how racy the outfit was, a Chinese style Keyhole dress, all in gold with the Phoenix design on it and a slit from the left ankle all the way up to the bottom of the left hip. But her sister assured her that would be the best way to get what she wanted. Olivier changed in the living quarters off to the side, then re-emerged to take a seat while Catherine worked on her hair and make-up for her. Just to add that last touch, to her ensemble. A light, warm shade of foundation was added to Olivier's skin, so skilfully with those triangular sponges. Next came the eye-liner, to make her icy blue eyes pop more, framing them like individual masterpieces of art. Mascara was then applied to lengthen her lashes and help to add to the already 'WOW!' factor Olivier had going on. Catherine then set about enhancing her sisters bone structure, by adding a touch of rouge blusher to her high cheek bones, just enough to accentuate them. Next the lips were painted with a shimmering gold lipstick, and lip liner pen, the glittery affect was dazzling. That coupled with the matching eye-shadow too, made Olivier look a million bucks.

Catherine then went to work on Olivier's hair. Pinning back most all of it, with a decorative red and gold clip at the back of her head. She left two chunky sections loose, getting her curling iron out and styling it with big loose curls, so that they fell to either side of her sisters face framing it. She added some more of those curls to the length of Olivier's long, usually straight, blonde locks giving her a softer look. Though her stare, was still anything but soft. However with her face done up to look stunning with her outfit and hair, there was no man alive who could possibly deny, their primal urges to have her. Once Catherine stepped back to admire he work and smiled satisfactorily, she let her sister go see for herself in the full length mirror in the other room. Olivier was stunned to see how she looked. She barely recognised herself, with all that Catherine had done. She slipped into the strappy gold stiletto's her sister had purchased to go with the outfit, and was just on her way back out the room, when her driver Miles was entering the office. He stopped dead in his tracks the second he saw her. Was that really his boss?

"Uh..." Miles was left speechless at the beauty before his eyes, he had never denied his attraction to Olivier, but he was not so stupid as to voice it "Lady Olivier? Is that really you ma'am?"

"Yes Miles it is me." She frowned, making her beautiful and dangerous all at once "Who did you think I was, some hooker?" she spat out.

"N-No ma'am! Not at all!" Miles tried to get her to stop looking at him that way, it was only making things worse for him in that moment "I was just stunned ma'am, I'm not accustomed to seeing you dressed like that."

"I see, well get used to it fast, this is what I am wearing this evening." She told him, matter of factly "Now, fetch the car around, I'll be needing you to drive me directly to the Devil's Nest Night Club."

"Wait, The Devil's Nest ma'am? Are you certain you want to go there?" Miles was worried now, though he hid the expression well enough, his voice betrayed him however "I mean, that is _his _place ma'am, is it really such a good idea to be walking right into his lair?"

"Do I tell you how to conduct your business Miles!" She snapped, glaring at him now and with how she was dressed to kill, he certainly thought she would this time "Do as I order, get the car and drive me there. Do NOT try to question my orders again, am I clear Miles!"

"Yes ma'am! Perfectly!" Miles bowed and left the room, to go and do her bidding, all the while he tried to calm his libido and straightened his suit a bit as he felt all of a sudden on fire within it.

"Oh sister dear..." Catherine giggled sweetly "Your so mean to him, and yet he loves you so dearly. Didn't I say you would be a knock out in that outfit?"

"Yes you did, thank you for all the work you put in." Olivier replied walking to her desk and opening a drawer, slipping her hand in to retrieve a small ornate dagger in a sheath, slipping it into the garter belt around her right thigh "And just what are you talking about? Miles is a member of my trusted staff, he harbours no romantic feelings towards me at all."

"Your welcome sister." Catherine frowned now "Is it really a must to have that dagger? It ruins your outfit. And of course he doesn't show it, he knows your opinions on weak emotions and such, so he hides it, though not very well it seems if I can see it hehehe." She giggled with a hand to her mouth all sweet like.

"Preposterous." Olivier scoffed, then fixed Catherine with a strong glare "If I don't take the dagger, how will I defend myself against any attack? Granted I know hand to hand, but in this dress, it's not so easy to move." She told her.

"Alright, if you say so." Catherine relented, then walked out with her sister as they made their way downstairs to the two waiting cars "You know, you should talk to him, he really does have feelings for you sister. Just trust me on this." Catherine winked as the elevator stopped on the ground floor.

"Perhaps, when I have the time to." Olivier replied, if only to stop her younger sister trying to tell her how to deal with her own love life...not that she had one really.

Outside in the parking lot, stood two cars. One was a red classic Rolls Royce Silver Cloud, with the driver patiently waiting by the side of it. Mr Buccaneer, a trusted and able man, who was both driver as well as bodyguard to Miss Catherine. The other car, was Olivier's and Miles stood straight by the side of it, in his dark suit and chauffeurs hat, waiting to open the door for Olivier when she came to the car. A modern 2010 model Rolls Royce Silver Ghost, with two tone paint work, most of the body was Midnight Blue Shimmer and the accenting was Gunmetal Grey. After saying goodbye to her sister, Catherine made for the car that was her ride home, Buccaneer opening the door for her with a small bow, then shutting it and getting into the drivers seat to carefully drive off towards the Armstrong mansion. Miles opened the door for Olivier and she slipped into the back seat, settling close to the drivers seat. As Miles got in and started the car up, she glanced to the left overs of the cops still buzzing around the scene. She saw that the detectives were gone now, only a couple of cops left now guarding the taped off area, while the CSI's worked still. As they pulled away from the main building, she got the sense that they were going to be followed.

Her sharp senses weren't wrong either, even Miles sensed it too and was already looking in the rear view at a beat up old green Camero, tailing them from a distance. He knew that it could possibly have something to do with cops that had been around all afternoon, dealing with the death of the hapless researcher. He tried some evasive driving, but that green car stayed right on his tail. Who ever this guy was, he sure knew how to drive, Miles thought. He exchanged a look in the mirror with Olivier and she knew what he meant. Giving him a nod, that told Miles go ahead, he took to ducking down streets that would take them nearer home, rather than the club, to try and throw off their unwanted guest. After a few turns the green Camero vanished and wasn't seen again. Miles, then satisfied he had thrown the guy off, changed direction and made his way over to the club. Of course he was not aware that, the beat up old green car, was still on his tail around five cars back. Jean had not been thrown off at all, merely, he had chosen to let the guy he was tailing think that he'd ditched him. Street smarts were something Jean had in abundance. He followed them to the night club. To his shock it was the one he had been staking out the night before.

Miles pulled the car up front and got out to open the door, a group of paparazzi from the local rags, were gathered by the doors snapping shots of anyone important. Of course they all went crazy, the minute Olivier stepped from her car. Jean had not seen her get in, but he knew her car. That one was clearly hers since the other had carried a younger girl in it. So Jean's heart jumped in his chest and his groin ached, the second he caught sight of her. She was even more stunning than before and he did his best to remember to grab a paper come morning to get a permanent piece of memory to stare at. The snappers went nuts, flash bulbs going off like fireworks in the night. She walked right passed them and never once stopped to pose, Miles driving off to the lot that sat behind the venue itself. He simply sat in the car and waited till she called him to pull the car around front. Olivier however, had made her way inside and was now scanning the room. It was heaving with people, some dancing and some just milling around in small groups. But she sought one person in particular. The one she suspected of having dared to mess with her business. Finally she spotted him, and set her plan into motion, as she sauntered over to the bar where she could easily be seen and popped onto one of the stools, crossing her legs seductively.

Greed was sat at his own private table, with a bevy of beauties surrounding him, as he laughed and was fawned all over. The club was packed out and the music thundered through his veins. This party, was proving to have been a great idea to boost his already huge ego. The revenue would be astronomical from this event alone. Couple that with all the ladies that were eager to get into his good graces-and his pants too-Greed was one very happy fellow. At least he was, till she walked in. Then, he was utterly mesmerised. Standing out like a figure from Greek mythology, with long wavy blonde hair and that golden dress so stunningly shimmery in the strobes, Greed was taken aback and desperate to know who she was. He got his answer a mere moment later, when she turned to look directly at his table and him. Olivier Mira Armstrong. Greed had to blink and rub his eyes, he truly could not believe what he was seeing. It was impossible! That couldn't be her! Could it? How was it even thinkable, that the ice queen herself, was at his party _and _dressed so stunningly that he had not at first recognised her. Though he loved having his harem around him, Greed needed to check this out. He had to get closer to her and talk to her. Find out why she was here and what had made her wear _THAT_!

"Pardon me ladies." He said suddenly, getting up and walking away, much to the disappointment of the ladies he left behind, to make a bee line for the bar and Olivier.

"Bourbon, straight up." Olivier said to the bartender and then noticed Greed making his way over, she turned back to bartender "And make that a double."

In moments, Greed was at her side leaning on the bar. Trying to look all cool and suave.

"Well, well if it isn't the mighty Olivier Armstrong." He chirped, then looked her over with leering eyes "Nice outfit, I never pictured you as having a sexy side." He grinned.

"So, you dumped your girls to come over here and say that to me Greed?" Olivier retorted, then narrowed her eyes almost seductively "Or were you just too eager to get over here and leave them in the dust?" She said sipping her drink.

"Now, they are beautiful and all, but you..." Greed started, then leered at her some more, giving her the once over again and daring to trail the fingers tips of his right hand along her exposed thigh "...you take the prize babe. I don't think, I have ever seen a woman, more stunning than you." He crooned.

Olivier had to fight the anger welling within her, she had to keep her cool and play his game to find the information she wanted.

"Is that so Greed..." Olivier replied, then turned to place a hand upon his on her thigh, letting her eyes soften a bit she gazed at him "Why don't we discuss this further, somewhere more...private."

"I couldn't agree more Olivier...shall we?" Greed gestured with his hand, towards where double black doors led out of the main room "How about my office?"

"Perfect." Olivier replied, taking her drink in hand and hopping off the stool, to sway her way towards the doors, with Greed hot on her tail and ogling her tail at that, she could feel his eyes on her.

Just as Greed and Olivier were venturing out into the back rooms of the club, Jean was sneaking around back himself to find a way in without being spotted. Of course, he was spotted by an eagle eyed Miles, from where he sat in the Rolls. He did nothing though, figuring the idiot detective would get thrown out by the bouncers anyways at some point, when he got caught. Jean managed to sneak in the back, through the kitchen, and was about to go into the main part of the club, when he heard two voices out in the side hallway. He peeked out of a door and saw Greed, leading Olivier to a private room at the far end of the hall. Greed opened the door and let Olivier in first, then shut the door after entering too. Jean darted out of the kitchen and down the hall, checking both rooms to either side of the one he had seen Greed and Olivier go into. One was a cleaners closet, the other however was an adjoining room to the one he wanted to see into. He snuck in and cracked open the adjoining door with the other room, peeking in on Olivier and Greed. So far, all they did was stand talking about the room some and how it was decorated. Jean thought for sure this would go on for ever, but then things, took a turn for the interesting.

Olivier found herself pinned against the edge of the desk, Greed blocking her escape on either side. She idly wondered about getting her dagger out and slashing him. But, the look in his eyes told her, if she played along she could get the information she had come here for. He had a hungry lust in his eyes and that made her a touch nervous. Greed leaned close and ghosted his lips over her cheek, making her breath hitch slightly. Jean blinked and swallowed thickly, as his pants grew a bit too tight for comfort. He wasn't ready for just how heated this scene would get. But it progressed quickly, that was for sure. Greed brought a hand to Olivier's left leg and ran it up her thigh slowly, she shivered a bit, mostly from having not been touched like that in a long time. Olivier felt her breathing pick up and her pulse pounded in her ears. Those cold, yet soft lips, were trailing around her cheek and neck, before settling just under her ear and pressing lightly to the skin. Tilting her head back a bit, she let out an unexpectedly soft moan. Even she wasn't sure where it had come from.

Greed took that as a good sign and ravished her neck with more vigour, as his hand vanished up under her dress to rub at her hip roughly. His own pants growing increasingly tight as he ground against Olivier, with a hunger that seemed insatiable. He felt a pair of hands gripping his upper arms, making him groan a little. He loved that she seemed to almost be pushing and pulling him at the same time. It was like she wanted it, but didn't want it and that just turned Greed on more. He was quickly becoming hooked on her, which seemed wrong as they were enemies, but the danger made it all the more fun for him. He loved to go against the grain, do the unexpected, take a risk and see what would happen. Olivier was trying not to get too caught up in this little game, but it was difficult not to, with how Greed was teasing and pleasing her. Hidden away like some dirty pervert voyeur, Jean found his mouth was oddly dry and his erection throbbing hard against his pants. So hard in fact, he couldn't stop his need to add a little pressure to it. A stifled groan, as he palmed himself, all the while watching as Greed and Olivier made out hotly in the office. Jean had to bite his own fist, to not make a sound. As things got a bit hotter before his eyes. Greed and Olivier were now kissing fully, like they had been starved of all affection and were now gorging on the other.

"Damn, I wish that was me in there." Jean muttered softly to himself, as he got off on simply watching the pair at it on the edge of the desk.

Greed suddenly pulled back, panting slightly for air, as he slid his lips to her cheek again. Olivier was also a bit lost for breath, her eyes barely opened at all. Jean was biting his own lip, as his hand slowed a bit. What was going to happen now?

"I have to have you Olivier." Greed said suddenly, huskily "I have never, felt this urge, for a woman in my life. You, have some kind of, aura about you that makes you...irresistible to me." He then kissed her cheek.

"Mmm, well I am afraid, that this is all you can have." Olivier replied, taunting him with what she knew he would do or say anything to get, jutting her hips out a bit to grind on him for effect.

"Urghnnn, don't tease me bitch..." Greed ground out, as he felt that delicious friction against his erection "I can have what I want, I'm Greed, nobody denies me ever."

"Then I guess, you have finally met your match Greed." Another grind of her hips to great effect on him as he shuddered against her "You don't have anything to offer me...unless.."

"Anything." Greed said hurriedly "Ask for it and it's yours. Anything you want, just, stop fucking teasing me.." he bit out, on the back of a groan.

"Anything you say?" Olivier uttered hotly, reaching down with her right hand between them, to grip and squeeze his erection, making him moan all needy.

"Yeeeessss!" He growled, thrusting his hips, to get more of her touch, Greed was hooked, like a Pike on a fishing lure.

Jean gulped, as he squeezed his own erection, imagining it was her hand and not his own. His seed flowed from him and made him shudder in his dark little corner by the door, his breathing coming in short sharp pants. What the heck was going on here? Why was she toying with him? What could she have wanted here? All these questions plagued Jean as he watched more, slowly coming down off his impromptu orgasmic high. He couldn't be sure about this, but he had a gut feeling that Olivier was grilling Greed for information, in the hottest way possible. Jean only wished, she was grilling him the same way. Olivier seemed to have a hold of sorts, on two men, without even knowing it. Her own sights were set on Greed and finding out if he had been the one to orchestrate the attack on her researcher today. Greed's were just on getting off, and as quickly as he could, since this woman was teasing him into a frenzy. Three people, unknowingly getting wrapped up in a love triangle of sorts. None of them knew it right now and none of them would probably be willing to give it up either. Olivier found herself getting addicted to this new found power she held over men. Greed was desperate to bed her and Jean wanted the same, plus a little extra too...

...he wanted Greed as well.


	4. Chapter 4

_Chapter 4_

"Then tell me this, Greed..." Olivier said smoothly, as she squeezed and even palmed him a little "Were you the one responsible for the murder of my researcher today?" she asked coming right to the point.

"Ahhhh!" Greed groaned deeply, shuddering a little from the teasing and his building need to shoot his load "No! Wasn't...AH! Me!"

"You had better not be lying to me Greed." Olivier gripped him much too tightly, enough to hurt "I don't condone lying."

"Gah! Ow!" Greed's face contorted from desire to agony, then back again "Not...lying. I make it a point...to never tell a lie!"

"And I'm supposed to just take your word on this?" Olivier sneered, releasing Greed's shaft to rest back on the desk.

"So that's what all this was about huh?" Tenderly rubbing his groin, Greed glared at the woman before him "You just teased me, led me on, to get fucking info out of me?"

"I did what I felt was necessary, to obtain what I needed to know." Olivier wasn't phased by the glare at all "You would do no different in my position, Greed."

"Like hell..." He spat back, intending fully on getting what he wanted, maybe seeing she got a little something too, other than a hell of a good time in bed "...All you had to do, was ask me. You didn't have to do all this."

"Oh that's rich. You stand there and expect me to believe you would have simply told me if it had been you? What kind of fool do you take me..." Olivier broke off when Greed advanced on her, in the blink of an eye.

Once again she was trapped, but unlike before, this time she wouldn't be able to get free easily.

"I expected, for you to just come right out and ask me, instead you try to seduce me, get me all wound up and then decide your going to back off?" Those amethyst eyes had grown darker, more dangerous "I don't think so sweetheart. Nobody plays me. Nobody."

Before Olivier could utter a suitable retort, her mouth was crushed beneath Greeds angry, brutally hungry lips. Immediately her hands came up defensively, to push him away. She wriggled, trying to slide free of him. But his body was pressed hard against hers, his lips devouring harshly and his hands were gripping her waist so viciously, she was certain she would bruise. Though she fought to get free, the power of her fight was weak. Just as she was, under his rough assault. Olivier loathed to admit it to herself, but the way he forced this, forced her to bend to his will, was so much of a turn on. Here was a man, with the balls to go after what he wanted and get it. Though she hated herself for it, her body began to respond to his advances. Olivier's right hand shifted, swiftly into his jet black hair, grabbing a handful and pulling a bit roughly. That elicited a deep wanton groan from Greed, who responded to it by gripping her waist tighter and lifting her onto the desk. Her gasp was swallowed by his hungry mouth and his hands went right to work, pushing up the hem of her dress and scrabbling to tear off her panties. One high heel clad foot dug into his ass, causing Greed to bite down on her lips, drawing a touch of blood. Oh that just made him more desperate, when he tasted that metallic tang on his tongue.

Olivier could not deny it any longer. She had to release this burning, lava like desire, that bubbled away under her cool exterior. After the bite, her lips were set free, her lungs gulping in air as fast as they could. Her hands now grabbed and tore at the belt of Greed's pants, at the button and zipper, determined to get to the finish line, before she imploded. This was entirely insane and completely out of character for her, however there was no way to fight it. Greed's mouth now trailed her neck, dancing ever lower, before shifting so his lips and tongue could lavish her breasts, as they protruded from the opening at the front of the dress. She had no doubt, none what so ever, that he could do spectacular things...with that tongue. Just the lewd way it slithered and snaked over her breasts and into the tiny gap between her ample cleavage, spoke volumes to that effect. The heat was rising in her, the urge to mate increasing exponentially. The second his pants were undone, her hands shoved the cloth down off his hips. Olivier noted, rather curiously, that Greed wore no boxers. Well that would expedite things some, she thought. As Greed dragged her panties off, her mind fuzzed a bit and her eyes blurred. There was a loud sound right behind her and she could easily tell, it was the items on the desk being viscously shoved aside.

"Mmmrrmm, now who's...the tease.." Olivier managed, as her body was pushed backwards onto the desk, the anticipation building.

"This ain't teasing sweetheart..." Greed let his lips drift down the silk garment, across her stomach a bit, before moving back up to her neck "This is just the opening act."

"Got high opinions...of yourself don't you Greed?" Her retort was breathless, the air around her seemed to be in short supply.

"Heh, it's not an opinion babe..." Lining up, Greed thrust in with such ferocity, the desk screeched along the wood floor.

"UUUHHH!" Olivier threw her head back, hitting the desk with a thunk, the feel of him in her was akin to being skewered with a red hot poker, her hands gripped his arms tightly.

"...It's a known fact." He finished once fully sheathed, not bothering to give her time to get used to it, choosing to go with a fast and hard pace from the get go.

The desk complained loudly, the items atop it fell haphazardly about, some rolling off onto the floor. The room filled with the low, panting and groaning of the two. It sounded much like a poorly scripted German porno. Even so, Jean couldn't keep his eyes off them. It was like a hot fantasy, an amateur movie and something only seen in whore houses all rolled into a steamy, animalistic mating ritual. He couldn't believe it was happening. That, and he couldn't fathom why he was so hard again! Just seeing it, hearing it, even smelling the sex in the air, seemed to amp up his hormones and send them hurtling into overdrive. This time, palming himself wasn't going to do the job. But getting his cock out, in this situation was risky on so many levels. Jean knew, if he was caught, he was a dead man and no one would ever find his mangled body. But, if he didn't take care of this now, he was going to be in a great deal of pain and getting caught jacking off in his car, wasn't going to look good on his permanent record. Which at the moment, was a touch blotchy at best. Either way, was risky for one reason or another. It took Jean mere seconds to weigh them up and decide that being dead was more preferable to being chewed out by his boss.

As the action intensified in the office, Jean scrambled quietly to free his aching member. Silently, he spat in his palm and when his fist curled around his throbbing length, he bit his lip to stay quiet. It felt so incredibly good. His saliva working well to lubricate his hand, so it could glide effortlessly along his shaft. Swift, jerky motions. Hips rocking a little, fingers tightening some. Bracing his free hand on the wall, Jean let his head drop, as his breathing sped up. Peering through the crack in the door again, he saw that in the moments it took him to get himself freed and slicked, the action had gone from steamy to downright obscene. Was this all for real? Jean asked himself. Greed had Olivier arching off the desk, his ass – sweet as it was – bounced back and forth hurriedly. Greed's face was once again buried in Olivier's cleavage, where he seemed to be trying to suffocate himself. Olivier was gripping and tugging at his hair, heeled feet digging into his lower back, her moans urging him onwards. Jean's hand quickened, the finishing line speeding toward him, as he blinked trying to keep his eyes from blurring up. He had to see this, see things to the finish. But GOD he needed to cum so fricken BAD! Like a collective thought, Greed reared up, taking hold of Olivier's hips and pounding her into the next millennium. She in turn, wrapped her legs around him in a vice like grip as her peak crested. Jean went for it, his hand moving at almost lightning speed.

Leaning over, Jean stuffed his fist into his mouth to silence himself. Olivier bent like a bow, uttering the most lovely moan any man might be blessed to hear. Greed thrusted thrice more, before his final one drove deep, his seed spilling freely as he gasped for air silently like a fish out of water. Each one of them, went boneless from the incredible pleasure. Olivier seemed to just sink back against the desk. Greed slumped over letting his head rest on her chest. Jean slid down the wall to sit in a heap on the floor. It seemed to take some time, before any of them could think clearly. Reaching into his pocket, Jean pulled out a handy pack of tissues and set about cleaning himself up. Once that was done and he was in decent order again, he peered through that gap once more, from his lower level, to see what was going on in the office now. Olivier's legs had fallen to dangle off the desk, with Greed in between them and still lazing on her chest, her panties seemed to drip from her right ankle. Greed moved a bit, intending fully on getting another taste of her lips. But as he leaned in, a hand planted firmly on his face and pushed him back. Puzzled, Greed refused to give too much ground. This had been the most pleasing bout of sex he had partaken in, in what seemed like forever. There was no way he was going to back off without an explanation.

"Correct me if I'm wrong babe...but didn't we just have some pretty hot sex a moment ago?" Greed asked, in a slightly cocky tone, with the hint of a smirk upon his lips.

"I won't deny it was...better than average...but I fail to see why that gives you the right to kiss me again." Olivier replied, her tone cold and unfeeling, her eyes icy once more.

"Ouch, sweetheart!" Greed chuckled, putting a hand to his heart "It hurts me to hear I was only 'average' in your book...since I found you to be quite stunning to the contrary."

"Oh I'm very aware that I am stunning by any standards." There was a feral feline smile, just a hint of one "But I call the shots on who and when I will kiss someone willingly."

"Did you really only come here to get info?" Greed asked, as he slipped from her, stepping back to redress "I mean, surely you had other motives."

"No, I had only one motive." Pulling her panties back on, Olivier slid off the desk to straighten her dress "I needed information, that was why I came. If I hadn't needed it, this would not have come about."

"Well I certainly hope your not going to have a hit put on me for screwing you into my desk." He chuckled, as he tucked in his shirt "I mean if I had been responsible for the troubles at your place, that would be fair reason to want me dead, but not for this."

"I still don't fully believe you had nothing at all to do with the death today Greed. But I have little more to go on at this moment in time." Running her fingers through her hair like a comb, she was once again picture perfect "Though I will have to look into this further. It will not go unanswered for."

"Babe, I know what it's like to have someone attack you so publicly. Why don't you let me help you?" Greed said, moving closer to her and running a hand up her arm "I have connections in some lower rungs of society, lower than your used to going, I could sniff around, find some juicy Intel for you."

"And why exactly would you do that, Greed?" That icy stare was back, with a piercing hint of suspicion "What? You think if you assist me, I'll fall for you and into your bed willingly, at your beck and call?"

"Well, the latter would be a great perk, don't you think?" Greed's eyes seemed as amused as his tone "But aside from that, I'm not the totally heartless guy everyone thinks I am...well...not lately anyway. What have you got to loose?" he lifted a shoulder.

"What have I got to loose? Plenty." She said sharply, even as the idea turned in her mind "If I agree to this, you have to do things as I want them done. Unless you tell me prior to any actions what your planning if it differs from my instructions."

"Sweetheart, I don't take orders from anyone, I give them." He replied, now staring her down "But I will say this, I won't make it known, that there is a connection between the two of us, so that way if things go south, your not going to get any of the backwash from it. Alright?"

She considered it a moment. It seemed a logical and, dare she think it, selfless type of thing to do. But this was Greed, leader of the H gang and not at all known for his generosity or being the doer of good deeds. She knew, this would cost her. Olivier only hoped she could postpone payment. Indefinitely. Jean waited on baited breath, to hear what the outcome would be. If this went the way his gut said it would, it could mean bad news for the city. If Greed and Olivier, the heads of the two largest gangs in Zusyrion city, hooked up and became 'partners in crime' so to speak...they were all done for.

"Alright. I will agree to those terms...however..." Olivier raised a hand when Greed advanced "This is a strictly business deal, there will be no sex mixed into this. Is that understood?"

"Well I could say yes no problem, but that would be a lie and like I said before..." Greed's hands skimmed up her bare arms "...I make it a point to never tell a lie and I really, really won't be able to keep this all business with you. Your far to sexy for that and I just won't be able to control myself around you." he explained, backing her up to the desk again.

"Well, make more of an effort to try Greed." Hands firmly on his chest now, Olivier pushed, hard, to shove him back "I meant what I said."

"Hehe, so did I babe." He replied, his voice dropping to the dead sexy end of the spectrum, those amethyst eyes amused and tinted with lust.

Jean's jaw dropped a bit. Well there goes the city, he thought. He watched as they talked while heading to the doors. Silently shutting the one he had been peeking through, Jean straightened himself and then waited, for what he hoped, was long enough not to get caught. Their muffled voices had passed the door of the room he was hiding in. The blast of the roaring sound system came and went, as the door at the opposite end of the hall was opened and closed. Jean figured he would just slip out the way he had gotten in, via the kitchen. Then he would head home, shower and write up his notes, to present to Mustang the next morning. Before he got another earful off his boss. Counting the minutes off, Jean listened carefully at the door. All seemed quiet. He could faintly hear the sounds of the kitchen at work. Deeming it safe, he slowly opened the door, preparing to dash out into the kitchen and out the back door. However the second the door was opened, there was a blur of movement, a shocking pain in his nose and the world went entirely pitch black.

000

Deep within the financial district of the city, where skyscrapers towered, glass and steel that would glint in the the light of day, now stood dark and foreboding in the dim illumination of the street lights that lined the side walks. In this high rise, high stress environment, stood a building that on the surface appeared to be that of any other banking headquarters or other such important company. However, this façade was merely a shell. A covering for what truly went on inside. A mask, for whom truly controlled it. On the top floor, one hundred and twenty eight stories up, with a panoramic view of the entire city, as well as the distant outlying areas, was the overtly decorated penthouse apartment. It encompassed the entire top floor, with it's own private elevator that rode directly to the basement parking structure. It was spacious, with great marble columns framing the elevator doors. As one would step off the elevator, they would walk into a large square foyer, matching marble columns framing each passageway. Directly ahead lead into the massive open plan living room, with it's sunken circular white leather couch. Wide windows encapsulated the views from three sides, showing all the vistas that lay before them. Luxurious white velvet drapes, hung at the edge of each window pane, with silk rope ties holding them back. The floor was a decadent marble tile, with animal skin rugs carefully placed for both aesthetics and practicality.

There was a gleaming white Grand Piano in one corner, with potted palms to either side. Everything was white, gleaming and very, very expensive. From the foyer, turning right, you were greeted by the guest wing and kitchen. Five stately rooms, all decked out in silks, luxuriant fabrics, wallpapers and artwork upon the walls. The kitchen boasted all the modern convenience of a five star restaurant, with the capacity to cater to a banquet. Down the left hall, were four more doors. The first lead to the substantial library, with floor to ceiling, wall to wall book cases and several high back chairs, in dark brown leather. The door opposing it, lead to the study, where a large marble fireplace dominated one wall and an equally huge desk of pure granite sat facing it. This room was far darker, the walls clad in wood, with animal heads adorning the walls. The spoils of hunting. Next down the hall, the door to the large formal dinning room. With a table so long it could comfortably seat twenty people. Candelabras sat ready with candles, to be lit for an evening meal, their iron frames a stark contrast to the red hues of the wood table top, which was polished to a high gleam. This room screamed of Opulence. From the Deep red wallpaper, to the traditional style portraits that lined the walls themselves, to the high backed, silk covered chairs and the cabinet that stood showcasing the fine china that would be used to serve any guests.

The final door, lead to the master bedroom with it's en-suite bathroom. The bed was the size of a small car, covered in midnight blue silk sheets. Above it was a mural on the ceiling. There was a set of double doors that led to the walk in closet-come dressing room, that could easily house enough clothing and footwear to open a small store with. And the bathroom, well, that was more like walking into some high end Spa. There was an oversized free standing cast iron tub with Sphinx's for feet. A football team sized shower, with somewhere close to two dozen jets. There was a sauna, a Jacuzzi to seat twelve and a vanity to make any woman salivate, with it's sheer size. Though all that stood upon it, were the typical male grooming paraphernalia. Clippers, Nose Hair Trimmers, mens Cologne in varying sized and colored bottles, Aftershave and Shaving Creams, to sooth and smooth the skin, along with a couple Cut Throat Razors, with decorative handles of Ivory and gold. The entire room was an off white, somewhere close to a muted cream, with gold detailing everywhere the eye could see. Real gold. Not plated, not faked, not even gold leaf...but real honest solid gold. The taps, the tub feet, the trim around the tiles and around the edge of the mirror above the vanity, around the vanity itself no less. This was a true show of wealth. Of extravagance. Of boastfulness.

A man with pure white hair and thick beard of the very same color, wearing a smart, tailored black suit, with a matching tie, walked into the living room carrying a silver tray with a phone upon it. Making his way deftly around the furniture and other decorations, he came to stop by a large white leather lazy-boy chair that had a matching footstool. Leaning slightly, the butler place the tray onto the small side table.

"Telephone call for you sir, it is from _him, _I wagered you would want to take it as soon as possible sir." He stated, bowing his head respectfully, waiting to be dismissed.

"Really now? Well, well...you may go Edison." The broad shouldered man without a lick of hair upon his head, save for the thick moustache crowning his upper lip, waved his hand as a signal.

"Sir." Edison bowed once more, then quietly slipped from the room, back to his other duties, as head butler.

Lifting the receiver and putting it to his ear, the mans gruff, impatient voice all but barked "It's about damn time! Explain yourself! You had strict instructions!" he huffed.

The low, slow chuckle that could make the hairs on any mans neck stand on end, gently rumbled through the earpiece. Having that very effect on the man sat staring out his window at the city he had grown to loath.

"_Well, I did warn you that if something didn't go to plan I would have to improvise." _The caller said, rather coldly, that creepy chuckle slipping out again "_Are you complaining because I killed that old fart? Or because now the cops are involved? Or is it that...your scared of being linked to all this mess?"_

"Pah! You dare to say such a thing to me? To ME! I could crush you like the bug you are!" The man all but bolted from his chair, literally shaking with rage, sneering at his own reflection in the glass "I fear NOTHING! I am dissatisfied with your methods! You were told to make it appear to be an accident!"

"_I remember the contract. I had it all set up. The bomb was so small and so easily destroyed by it's own blast wave, it would have appeared to have been a simple, yet fatal, gas explosion." _The man on the other end of the line sighed almost sadly "_But alas, I didn't get to use my cute new toy. And I worked very hard on it. But the old bastard came out too early, stumbling across me while I tried to plant it...I simply had to shut him up before he alerted anyone."_

"Couldn't you simply have stabbed him, made it look as though he were mugged? That would have been more preferable than the mess you created by slashing him almost in half!" Saliva flew from his mouth as he shouted, spraying the glass before him.

"_Now where would the fun in that have been?" _That evil laugh returned "_I mean you should have seen his eyes, the way they glazed, the way his blood..so red, so warm...sprayed from his body like a geyser. It was such a beautiful sight...almost as good as blowing him to itty bitty pieces, Grand."_

"You are one seriously, sick, sadistic son of a bitch." Grand pinched the bridge of his nose "I knew you were a bit crazy, but I had no idea you were clinically insane. We have no choice but to move onto phase two of the plan. Are you prepared?"

"_Have you ever known me not to be prepared for something?_" You could almost hear the smirk across the line "_I have everything in place. This time, I shouldn't run into any problems. It's much easier to kill someone, by accident of course, when they can't see the attack coming."_

"Alright. Do not fail me this time. We only have a short time left." Grand stared out his window once more and the wicked grin crawled over his face "Soon, this entire city will bow to my will. They will all answer to me."

"_Just watch your back. From what I understand, one of the detectives investigating the case, is a persistent one. A rule breaker too, he could be dangerous to our plans."_ There was a hint, barely audible, in the voice on the other end of that phone line.

But Basque Grand heard it and it didn't sit well with him.

"I can handle my end, I don't need a warning from the likes of you." He snarled, knowing it was a defensive mechanism.

"_Whatever you say Grand."_ A more mocking chuckle this time, before the line went dead.

"Pitiful insect. Fail me again and I will crush you with my bare hands, you worm." Glaring at and then slamming the receiver down, Grand scooped up his scotch and drank deeply.

The waiting would be hard, but it would be worth it all in the end. Once his researchers finished, once the final element was tested, the city and thus the world, would bow to him and he would rein supreme over them all. Living like a king. This was his mission. It would be his legacy. Once established, he would seek a wife, to bear him a son and heir, so that the Grand name and lineage would continue. His empire, would not fold, would not fall, would not under any circumstances crumble into the dusts of history without so much a footnote. He would be remembered, he would be revered, he would be worshipped and he would damn well gain the true respect he – believed – he so truly deserved. With this thought in mind and the alcohol warming his gut, Basque wandered toward his lavish bedroom. Along the way, he signalled Edison again and requested female company for the evening. With a bow, to the retreating man, Edison set off to call the most reputable whore house in the city. He would never tell Grand, not in a million years, that the women he welcomed to his bed when the mood struck him, were actually the employees of Madam Lust. Greed being one of Grand's rivals. Edison may seem quite and reserved and all in all a dutiful butler...but it did not escape him as to the goings on. He knew full well, that his boss had put hits out on several people over the years and that at this time was setting actions in motion to take over the city...thereby ousting the other gang leaders and anyone else who got in his way.

He knew, things were only going to get worse. More deaths would come. More heat from the cops would too. More pressure to escape from being found out. And, the more this plan progressed, the more chance that he would be needing to seek new employment. Edison knew very well, what kinds of people resided in the under current of the city. Those, who would kill for a price and thoroughly enjoy it.

000

As the Rolls pulled up in front of the main house of the Armstrong estate, Miles couldn't seem to dampen down his anger. Once again, he got out and opened the door for Olivier, who barely nodded to him – her way of a thank you – before sweeping up the steps and disappearing through the great doors. His task for the evening was now complete, all he had left to do was put the car in the garage and head to his own, small but ample quarters to ready himself for bed. But he was well aware that sleep, would not be forthcoming on this evening. With the Rolls safely put to bed for the night, Miles left via the rear door and started down the third of a mile long pathway, that led to the Annex building. The basement level, had been set aside for estate staff. He passed by several doors, all leading to rooms identical in basic design to his own, though personal taste would make each space look and feel very different. All but slamming his door, Miles let the anger show on his face now that he was safely alone. How could she! He thought angrily. How could she go in there and have sex with that...that...CRETIN! It took merely three temper laden strides to reach the far side of his room. It was on the, compact side, but it suited him. Not caring to own much in the way of trinkets and such, his room was sparse and only held the essentials for living. It was a two and a half room abode. The half being the minuscule kitchenette in what had most likely been a walk in closet at one time. The other two, were the main living space and the enclosed bathroom.

Opening one of the storage units that he had built – with his own hands no less – under his bed, Miles yanked out a bottle of some cheap Whiskey, twisted the top off it and took a rather long pull of it. The fluid burned down to his gullet. It seared and it left a fiery sensation in it's wake. He knew, absolutely, that Olivier had gone into that club to gain information. But when one of the doormen came to get him and he pulled up by the front doors, doing his driver duty to open hers...he had smelled it on her, as she got in. Sex. Hard, sweaty, impulsive sex. It had sickened him. Then as the notion sat a while on the way home, it had pissed him off. Now, all he wanted to do was get shit faced and forget it. Why was it so hard for her to see? He pondered as he slumped onto his bed and took his second pull of the vile drink. He hated the cheap crap, but he wasn't going to spend a lot on something he just wanted to get drunk on. No, if he wanted expensive, it was to savour it. Why couldn't she understand, just how much she meant to him? How much he cared for, even loved her, was devoted to her and only her. Miles knew it was foolish. But he couldn't control his heart, it wanted what it wanted and there wasn't a thing he could do about it. Another pull. Another stream of burning seeping into his gut and spreading through his body, fogging his mind slowly. Resting elbows upon his thighs, dipping his face into his open palm, Miles closed his eyes and tried to drive out the images his brain conjured of what had occurred in the club.

"It should have been me..." He muttered to himself, in the silence of his room, which seemed to answer him in a whisper that he was too weak to say how he felt to her face. No, that was his own cowardly thoughts, playing evil tricks on him "I'm not a coward!" he hissed at himself.

However, he could not deny, he was being ridiculous about this entire affair. Olivier was a grown woman. A beautiful and strong, grown woman. Miles admired her strength and her fortitude. His admiration had grown, morphed and transmuted itself, without knowing it Miles had fallen for her. Heart, mind and soul. He didn't see her as purely a beauty to look at. Oh she had that in abundance, perfection in his mind. But he saw, what few else did, the woman inside the shell of beauty. The stern, the disciplinarian, the leader, all these and more he had seen within her. And that was how she had stolen his mind. Being loyal to her, was easy to do, since she garnered such respect and wielded such power. But underneath it all, he often liked to think, there was a tender soul that yearned for love. As all these thoughts ran like a record through his mind, Miles had been taking swig after swig of the Whiskey and was now, rather light headed. Re-capping the bottle, he let it drop with a gentle thunk on the floor. His body chose not to stay upright and he fell onto his back on the bed. Having failed to get drunk as planned, Miles had succeeded in getting himself worked up over Olivier. A tightness in his groin, a prominent tent at the front of his pants, the sexy thoughts of doing so many slow and sensual things to her, filling his mind. There was no way, not one chance, to fight it off and sleep. He would have to take care of it first.

Sloppily, he grabbed and tugged at his button and fly. It seemed to only frustrate him more, when he couldn't set himself free fast enough. After some muttered curses, some wriggling and shedding of clothing, Miles lay naked from the waist down on his bed. Reaching under his mattress, he felt around for the small bottle of play lube he kept there. Bringing it out once located, he popped the cap and squeezed a generous amount into his palm. The small bottle vanished back under the mattress for safe keeping. Smearing the silky feeling liquid gel along his shaft, Miles groaned as he all but teased himself. Once satisfied with the coverage, he took a firm hold of his aching member and began a slow slide, up and down. Lips parting to allow maximum air intake, as his breathing became laboured. Behind closed lids, Miles could see her again in that keyhole dress and those heels. Visualizing every curve of her body, every contour of her frame, the full roundness of her ample bosom. With every upward stroke, Miles's thumb scraped across his tip and sent shudders down his body. Tongue sweeping across dry lips, breath whooshing in and out, faster and more ragged. His hand picked up the pace, running along his shaft with more slickness, the wet sounds of the lube mingling with his own groans and pants, as he brought himself closer and closer to that precipice. The knot in his gut tightened. The heat in his belly increased. As his hand slid, he rocked his hips up, thrusting into his fist as he pulled almost impatiently now on his member.

"Urgh! Haaa! Ahhh!" Miles could feel his peak approaching quickly, those final mind bending moments, where nothing seemed sane and everything felt glorious "Aaahhnn! Haaahh! Oh...Ngh...O-Olivier!"

The moment his balls tightened and with a final thrust up, hot sticky fluid shot an inch into the air and coated his hand, part of his stomach and his thighs. Panting heavily, he just laid there, letting the orgasm wash over him, crawling to each and every corner of his body. Opening his still clouded eyes, Miles found the ceiling of his room blurry and out of focus. The grip on his now softening shaft, was loose, almost numb from the strength he used to bring about his completion. As the pleasure faded from intense, to a dull hum in his system, Miles reached above his head for the tissue box that sat at the head of his bed. It took a small handful of the two-ply sheets, to clean most of his cum up from his body. Aimlessly tossing the used tissues aside, Miles barely had the strength to roll over and crawl beneath his covers. The anger had abated some, partly due to the drink and a lot to do with his impromptu jerking off. He was bound to have a slight head ache come morning, but that would at least stop his temper flaring again. Closing his eyes again and burrowing his head into the pillow, he once again saw her in that dress...but this time, all he felt was the disappointment from knowing, she had lowered herself to sleeping with Greed.

The woman he coveted the most, desired the most, had given it away so meaninglessly to a piece of scum like Greed. How was he supposed to work for her and follow her instructions now, now that he felt this betrayed and cast aside. Spurned without her ever knowing how he felt about her. It would take all his will power, all his control, to not let on how crushed he was feeling. If anyone were to notice, it would be Buccaneer, that man spotted every change in behaviour no matter how small. And if he found out, Miles would never live it down. Yes they worked together, even gambled and drank together now and then, but damn if the man wouldn't taunt the hell out of you just for fun if he became privy to your softer side, even for a moment. As sleep began to blanket his mind, creeping across his senses like a thick inky black pool, Miles wished with his final clear thought, that he could bury this hurt and ignore the ache in his chest. He had grown to love Olivier, over the years he had worked for her, in various forms. But now, his dreams of one day being her lover and life partner, had been dashed indefinitely. His breathing slowed, becoming deeper and he let the night take him, let the exhaustion overwhelm him. With a stream of moonlight cutting a swath across Miles, the bed and his room, he fell into a dreamless sleep...where there was nothing but the darkness and the silence.


	5. Chapter 5

_Chapter 5_

Heat. Sizzling somewhere at the edges of Jean's consciousness. Distantly he could hear the fires voice. Wicked and cackling, as it devoured. Feeding off whatever it had taken hold of, whatever poor innate object had succumbed to it's ravenous hunger. Dimly, he could smell the choking black smoke, taste the acrid fallout from the blaze. As his mind floated from beneath it's blanket of inky blackness, he became far more aware of his surroundings. Noting firstly, the intense heat from the fire of which he could now tell, he was too close to for comfort or safety sake. Secondly, as Jean tried to move away from the searing flames, he became acutely aware...of the pain. It shot through him, like a lightening rod of agony, forking out to every blessed corner of his being, every last nerve ending. Thirdly, once he came more into his thoughts, he noted the difficulty he had in taking in air to fully fill his lungs. Oh yes, he knew what that pain signified. He'd been in enough brawls to be sure he had at least two cracked ribs. With each attempt to suck in air, to inflate his lungs, the action was met with shocking pain that radiated from his chest to his sides and then around to his back. It made the action of moving, more problematic too. Even the slightest move, even so much as a twitch, had him groaning in pain. He was going to be feeling this for some weeks yet, he thought dully. His vision was still somewhat hazy, as he squinted open his eyes, to get a better grasp of his bearings.

And as they cleared, he saw it.

"Shit." Jean's one word comment didn't come close to how he truly felt, but through the pain he had to accept and move on.

His car. His beat up, dark green Camero...had died a fiery death.

What was left, could barely be recognised as a car, let alone a specific make or model. The scared and charged skeleton, still being eaten away by raging flames of vibrant yellows, reds and deep ambers. The tires gone, but for the rims melting under the intense heat. The rubber of the tires having popped and melted long before he awoke to the scene. The paint, though it had been flaking and pot-marked with rust patches, could not be seen any longer, the dark grey metal chassis stood stark against the distant lights of the city across the river. The sky was still star speckled over head, but the blooming of day was encroaching on the far side of that city scape, that shimmered in the darkened river waters. The fire was much too bright here. There was so little lighting, it was the only source of illumination that Jean could make out. It made everything around it, seem ghostly and demonic. From what he could make out, he was in some sort of old boatyard or river port. There were some sagging outbuildings at the edges of the light, one very large half fallen barn like building, that was weathered and looked defeated. There were the bones of old boats, like something you might see in the dark depths of the ocean, when searching for and finding a long lost wreck. Hauntingly silent and barren.

It took some effort, it sure as hell took some guts, but Jean got to his knees and crawled his way further from the flames that threatened to grill him alive. He made it around fifteen feet away from the wreckage, before the need to stop and rest took over. Leaning back, holding his right side with his left hand, Jean watched as he panted short sharp breaths, as the flames licked high into the night sky. With a bit of a struggle, he dug out his pack of smokes and his lighter. Opening the pack, Jean groaned in dismay. Empty. A split second before he crushed it and tossed it aside, his eyes caught the small folded piece of napkin tucked into the space, where at least – to his recollection anyways – seven cigarettes should have been waiting, nestled in the half squashed cardboard pack. With some effort, Jean tugged the napkin out of the pack, allowing the empty box to fall into his lap, as he unfolded the piece of flimsy paper. There, on the top corner, was the logo for the club. Greed's club. And scrawled in rough handwriting across the blank white area, was a message...no, Jean thought...not a message, but a warning.

_NEXT TIME YOU'LL BURN._

With a grunt of sorts, Jean stuffed the napkin in his pocket. Well, he thought, if they think torching his car and beating him up was going to stop him from pursuing this and getting to the bottom of the case, they were in for one hell of a shock. Jean Havoc, did not give up so easily. Sure he was prone to getting into work late, pissing his boss off, letting his paperwork pile up on his desk and generally take things lazily. But when it came to snuffing out a lead and following it, he was doggedly determined to finish whatever he started. It was natural, to his way of thinking, to hate paperwork. His own boss loathed it. So he was following the great example, for lack of a better excuse that is. But this latest development, was certainly going to make him that much harder to shake off. Distantly he could hear the familiar sirens of the fire department and felt glad, that someone had called it in. Since he didn't think for one minute he would have the strength to walk away from this. Not right yet that is. He needed to rest and he needed to be patched up. Then he would have to deal with the unenviable task, of being ripped to shreds by his boss. Mustang was going to blast his ass for this one.

Trying to focus now on taking breaths, while reducing the pain factor, Jean watched the darkness to his left. He didn't let his eyes slip closed to concentrate more, till he could see the flashing lights of the approaching emergency services. He could tell from the lights, there were two fire trucks, two ambulances and at least three cop cars, making a bee line to his location. Here come the cavalry, he thought with a half smirk. Within moments, the wreck of his car was being dowsed in water. He was being fussed over by two paramedics and one of the cops was talking on his squad car radio, relaying what was going on and the fact they had found Jean half conscious, beat to hell and back, but lucid. It hurt to be moved, to be shuffled about. To have his neck wrapped with the thick foam neck brace and body rolled so the backboard could be slipped under it. It felt to him just a little bit humiliating to have to be strapped down to the stretcher, but he knew, it was procedure. It was a painful ride across the uneven ground, to the back of the waiting ambulance. It's wide doors opened ready to accept the stretcher. But as they slipped it in, Jean had to screw his eyes shut, to block out the too bright fluorescent light affixed to the ceiling. They secured the wheels, placed a blanket over him and strapped a heart monitor to him, via sticky electrodes placed on his chest and finally the plastic gas mask, to allow him extra oxygen.

"Just try and relax Detective Havoc, we'll be at Our Lady of Hope in a short while." One of the paramedics, a young man of no more than twenty five Jean estimated, smiled reassuringly.

"Take your time." Jean replied, his voice muffled by the mask, though the raspy quality could still be made out "I'm in no rush to be poked and prodded more."

"Well, better just deal pal, seeing as your going to be poked and prodded _a lot_ more when you get there." The young man chuckled, drawing a half smirk from Jean, as the ambulance bounced it's way to the main road.

"Hey, long as it's a pretty lady Doc doing the poking, I think I can take it." Jean said, winking at the young man and drawing a laugh from the older paramedic who sat at the foot of the stretcher.

"Now that, I can agree with buddy. Ain't worth getting treated like a damn pin cushion, if the pin pusher ain't one hot piece of ass with a mile of leg. Am I right?" The man, at least forty and clearly a lover of his donuts or fried meals, as he carried a spare tyre about his waist.

"Preaching to the masses, pal." Jean said, chuckled and then winced with the pain it brought on "I for one, like them smart, sexy and strong willed."

Both men looked at him like he was crazy, which just brought on a face splitting grin. They looked at Jean, then to each other, then back to him blinking.

"Hey, I like a challenge, what can I say?" Jean said, amusement ringing true in his voice, as he did his best not to laugh at their reactions.

Doing his best to relax during the ride, Jean shut his eyes and breathed shallow, smelling the hint of crisp cleanness of the oxygen and finding his mouth going dry from the very same. He could hear the scratchy sound of the dispatchers voice over the radio, the reply from the driver and the periodic comments as to his condition, by the two men in the back with him. His mind drifted, glancing over the events that he recalled, however few they were after he had spied on Greed and Olivier. He couldn't even say for sure what the guy who socked him one had looked like. That would have been a start at least. But, as was his luck, it had happened with such speed he had not gotten a good look at him. It was going to make it tough, to prove it had been one of Greed's henchmen who had slugged him and brought him to where he woke up. And whom had called it in? He doubted there was a phone booth in the vicinity of the old boatyard. So, if it wasn't some concerned citizen, it had to have been one of the afore mentioned henchmen. There was no other explanation in Jean's mind. But, proof was in the eye of the beholder. And he didn't have a whole lot of that, at that moment in time. But it would only be a matter of time, before he had some. Before he could take down Greed and stop whatever chaos he and Olivier could concoct. The city sure didn't need more trouble. It was already rife with pushers, pimps and thieves.

But the feeling in his gut, that cop instinct that never failed him, was screaming like a school fire alarm...that things were already on the path to getting a whole lot worse.

000

It wasn't unheard of, in the least, for Vato Falman to be up and around at day break. Neither was it unusual that he was already working, following up with the coroner at the morgue. He wanted to get the preliminary report on the wound pattern and to confirm cause of death. It would only bother and nag at him if he had to wait for Jean to show up. He knew better than most, just what Jean was like and how he was prone to being late for work most days – well damn near everyday in fact – however Vato had been unable to get a hold of his partner that morning. A half dozen calls to his home had gone unanswered. Usually it took but one call to get the "I'm sleeping buzz off" response, from a groggy sounding Jean. Shaking his head he continued through the halls toward Autopsy. Vato had learned early on after joining the department, that you couldn't change Jean Havoc no matter how much you tried to. The man could be lazy, blinkered to things that didn't peak his interest and an incorrigible skirt chaser. With a smile only friendship could have forged, Vato shrugged off the fact that he was currently working this Homicide solo. It just meant he would have gained ground, cutting the time it took to solve it. Or at the very least he hoped for that outcome. He took the stairs swiftly, heading down to the lowest levels of the building. There was but one thing he hated more than being around dead bodies...

...Dealing with Dr Knox.

That man, could be an insufferable jerk at the best of times and a down right rude jack ass at the worst of times. But, he was a damned fine coroner. Grouchy, yes. Opinionated, certainly. Thorough, without doubt. And that, is what made him the best ME in the city. Down at sub-basement level 3 the air was chilled. It needed to be to delay the onset of decomposition and prevent the growth of unwanted bacteria on the evidence. There were three storage rooms, holding around twenty bodies total when at full capacity. Beyond those, was the large open Autopsy room behind the double swinging doors. It held four stainless steel tables, each with steel headrests and drainage holes along the edges, for washing away blood and other biological matter when cleaning the corpses. There were stainless steel trays, covered with carefully laid out tools – Scalpels, Saws, tweezers, Right Angled Ruler and the like – all the items necessary to cut open and examine the human body. The smell in that room could turn a rookie greener than the grass of the Emerald Isle. It had almost done so to Vato, in his early days. But now he was well used to it. That odd combination of bleach, death and decay, with a hint of something else that he chose not to enquire about. Pushing the left half of the double doors open, Vato strolled into Autopsy and was met by the sight of a dead female, with her intestines and other assorted organs in bowls and her chest cavity wide open.

It was the one thing, Vato _still _couldn't get used to.

Death he could handle. Dead bodies he could handle...but...seeing what was once a living, breathing human being cut open like the prize catch on a fishing excursion, was not a sight one got used to. Not even the seasoned cops did.

It was, after all, human nature to fear death.

"I see you left that pain in the ass chain smoker at home today Detective." Dr Knox's voice was rough and just a bit on the testy side, his head never once looking up, as he sliced skilfully at the body on his table "A good thing too, I'm trying to quit. Would only piss me off if he was around blowing the scent in my face."

"Gave up again huh?" Vato replied, taking a stance on the other side of the table, keeping his gaze on Knox's head, rather than the corpse between them "Well good luck with that. It's what...the fourth or fifth time you've tried now?"

"Sixth, if you must know." Knox grouched, as he dug a hand into the body and pulled out her heart "Hmm, good and healthy, not so much as nick." he muttered almost to himself.

"Have you had a chance to have a look at the DB that was brought in last night?" Vato asked, breathing through his mouth to minimize the smell.

"Yeah I did." Looking up then, Knox fixed a glare at the Detective "You think I got nothing better to do than spend my time with dead people? I got a life ya know."

"We all have a life outside of the work Dr Knox, we just have to do our duty whenever the need arises." Vato smiled, trying to relax the moody coroner.

The effort failed.

"Duty! Pah! You wanna know 'bout duty?" Knox growled, waving a very sharp unknown implement at Vato "Duty, is going off to war and getting you head messed with, as you try to stay alive, to get back to those you love! Duty, is when a man takes care of his wife and family! Duty, is _not _being called away from dinner to carve up an already carved up nerd!"

"You got called away from dinner? Well you could have just warmed it up after you know." Helpful suggestions, was how Vato thought to resolve this unexpected reaction from the Doctor.

"Warmed it up? You numskull! I was at a damned restaurant having dinner with my wife!" He bellowed "We decided to give things another try, go out some, see how we got on. See if there was a way to salvage what was left."

"Oh...my apologies Doctor. I wasn't aware of..."

"Of course you weren't! Dumb ass! I don't share every damned detail of my private life..as..it's..Private!" With a frustrated huff, Knox wiped his forehead on his lab coat sleeve.

With a shift of his feet and a clearing of his throat, Vato Falman tried not to say anything, lest he anger Dr Knox again. But the coroner was now setting aside his current task and tool, marching over to his desk while yanking off his gloves. Tossing the gloves into a yellow waste bin, like the kind you would see in a hospital ER room, he snatched something off his desk and made his way back. Upon his return, he shoved a manilla folder into the Detectives hands. It was relatively thin, but Vato knew it would be detailed and thorough. But the fact it was thin meant there wouldn't be too much to go on. The body wasn't giving much up.

"There's my report. Pretty cut and dried." Knox said, digging into his pocket for a pack of gum, unwrapping two sticks and folding them into his mouth "Who ever sliced him up, knew what they were doing. Was clean. Very professional and in my opinion, the crook was left handed. That slice cut the main Carotid Artery. Effectively cutting off his ability to shout for help, while causing him to bleed out rapidly."

"I see." Vato flipped through the first couple pages, scanning the clean and concise information "Well, this certainly gives us more than we had. Thanks Doctor Knox, I'll uh...leave you to your work."

"Yeah, yeah...go on get outta my hair already..." Knox grumbled, pulling on fresh gloves and going back to the female on his table, muttering "...damned pain in the ass cops, crawling up my ass every damn minute of the day..."

Leaving the coroner to his work, Vato smiled to himself at how annoyed Knox was at being called upon at all hours of the day and night. But that was part and parcel of the job, even the beat cops and the Captains weren't exempt from it. That was their lives. What they chose to do. Serve and protect, the public at large. Vato made his way down the hall to the stairs once more and jogged up them, heading for the level above. The labs. He could tell from his cursory scan of the file Knox had given him, that samples and blood work had been sent upstairs. So he knew his next port of call had to be with the lab monkey's. They were a spirited bunch, often making Vato laugh or shake his head at their antics. But they worked well together and produced quick results. Which was handy, in this line of work. The faster they identified evidence, the faster a case was solved. That was why this precinct, was the top ranking one in the city. They had the best of the best here, working toward the greater good.

As he reached sub-basement level 2, Vato rounded the corner and pushed open the single door, before entering the first room on the right. The long white corridor stretched to the fire escape at the far end. Inside the room was cluttered with specimens in various stages of growth. There was a large Oak picture frame with a certificate stating the bearer was a qualified Doctor. There was a rather large snail fossil being used as a paper weight and dozens of books, on every conceivable subject matter. The man Vato sought, was half hidden behind a stack of books with papers randomly sticking out here and there. Doctor Marcoh, was known for his patience and his steady voice. He could command his team of scientists and never have to shout. He was a well respected man, his jet black hair peppered at the sideburns with grey strands. It made him look all the more distinguished. And he was currently focused very hard on something.

"Doctor Marcoh? I was hoping your team had some results for me, regarding the evidence from the DB brought in last night." Vato spoke as he navigated the mine field that was Marcoh's office, to get closer to the desk.

"Hm?" Looking up, Marcoh's dirt brown eyes showed rings of red "Oh good morning Detective Falman. Yes, yes I believe we are waiting on the results of the unknown particles found in the wound track. Toxicology has come up with nothing."

"Well, our inquiries turned up nothing to indicate the victim was a drug user or that he was poisoned." Vato replied, flipping through the file he carried "Doctor Knox was his usual pleasant self this morning. You mentioned some unknown trace? How long will it take to analyse it and ID it?"

"Haha, yes old Knox can be a terrible grouch in the mornings." Rounding the fully laden desk, Marcoh headed from his office, with Vato in tow "That's correct. Knox discovered it when he was performing the autopsy. He sent a sample up to us and Edward has been working to identify it ever since."

"I see, so you don't hold out any hope that an answer will be forthcoming any time soon then?" Vato asked, as he fell into step beside Marcoh "Was there anything else sent up for analysis?"

"We shall find out from Edward how the tests are going. Yes, the clothing the victim was wearing has been thoroughly checked. Nothing but a few dirt particles from the parking area and more of the unknown element Knox found." Marcoh turned into a room half way down the hall on his left.

Walking in with the doctor, Vato was met with all manner of test tubes, pipes, beakers full of colored fluids and Bunsen burners with their blue flames heating not just fluids, but the room as well. The scent in the air was of chemicals, lots of them. There were bags, labelled and signed, with their tape carefully slit open. The evidence within them lay out on the long desk against the right wall. With incandescent table lamps shining on them. Vato knew not to touch a thing. That was procedure. On the left wall, was a floor to ceiling shelving rack full of labelled bottles. No doubt the chemicals he smelled. Squeezed into a corner on the back wall was a cluttered desk. It rivalled Marcoh's towering papers and books. Somewhere behind the mass of tubes and beakers, was a figure in a lab coat. Marcoh walked over, greeting the young man. His hair a mass of auric silk, restrained in a ponytail, with bangs to frame strong facial features. His height was easily over five feet six, his body long and lean.

"Edward. How far along with the substance identification are you?" Marcoh asked, as Vato stopped to stare at the array of utensils "Detective Falman is asking after the results."

"I've been working on it all damn morning Doc." The testy voice seemed to almost growl, it was clear that the lab technician had had a rough morning "I've eliminated just about everything I can think of. So, I took a chance with the last of the sample and ran a test for the more unusual compounds."

"You used the entire sample?" Vato chimed in, stunned panic plastered on his face "What happens if this test is also a failure? We won't have anything left to test for ID."

"Hey! You wanna do my job?" Edward jabbed a finger in Vato's direction, a sneer creasing his face "If you can think of every known substance to mankind AND match IT to any damned sample that comes in...then be my guest pal!"

"Edward please." Defusing this was paramount, lest the officer bring charges of insubordination against the young man "Detective, it's our jobs to identify trace here and very often that means using then entirety of the samples we are given..."

"I'm aware of the need to test for confirmation Doctor, I just wasn't aware that you routinely worked each sample to death." He couldn't understand their way of thinking or the way they conducted tests in the department "I just wonder if we will indeed ID it at all now."

"We will, I don't have idiots on my staff." A little miffed now, Marcoh's attitude turned to the defensive "All of my team are the best in their relevant fields. Now Edward, when do you expect this test to garner results?"

"Haaa..." Lifting his left hand, Edward scratched at the side of his head, messing up his bang so it stuck up oddly "...well it _should _be ready any moment now."

"Well that's good." Marcoh seemed happy with the answer "To expedite things, we will wait with you, alright."

"Knock yourselves out." Turning back to his confusing looking apparatus, the young man focused intently on a beaker sat under a pipe "Just don't get in my way, you got it?"

"You mean me, right?" Vato knew, that comment was meant for him for sure, he was after all the only non-scientist there "I won't move from this spot. That suit you?"

"Yeah." One sideways glance and half hearted disgruntled grumble and Edward went back to his task.

The room fell silent. Only bubbling and gurgling sounds filled the small space. It was like all three men were holding their collective breaths, till the result became clear. Edward watched fluids and gasses filter through pipes, adjusted valves and set a fresh beaker underneath one particular pipe. As if in slow motion, liquid dripped from the pipe. The tiny sound of droplets hitting the empty bottom of the glass beaker seemed twice as loud, in the silence of the room. Edward turned a valve to stop the flow, snatched the beaker up and held it to the light. He squinted some, golden orbs focused intently upon the small sample. Turning to Marcoh and Vato, he grinned.

"Got it!" He announced, holding the beaker out for them to look "Nobel 808. Without a doubt. Though why it would be in a wound track I have no idea."

"Nobel 808? What substance is that?" Vato stared at the greenish liquid, it looked like what you might find in an overgrown pond.

"Nobel 808 is also known as Plastique. Or in laymen's terms, Plastic Explosives." Marcoh said, as he took the beaker from Edward to confirm the identification, though he had faith in his staff "It is odd why it was in the wound though."

"Was it only found there?" Vato frowned, as theories began to form in his mind.

"No. Alphonse also found traces of it on the victims clothing." He could see Vato puzzling it out "What are you thinking Detective?"

"Well, to my way of thinking there is only one possible explanation for why it appeared in the wound track." He rubbed a hand under his chin, thoughtfully "Whatever weapon was used to kill the victim had previously been used in the building of a bomb."

The room fell silent once more. Edward and Marcoh just stared at Vato.

"If that is true Detective, then it is crucial to find the perpetrator quickly..." Marcoh said, looking very concerned "...as this explosive is hard to trace."

"Not really..." Edward chimed in "...you could easily get this on the black market, there are dealers who specialize in this type of thing."

Vato and Marcoh simply stared, mouths agape at Edward.

"What?" He asked, shrugging "What did I say?"

"Edward, how do you know this?" Marcoh asked, tentatively.

"I keep my ear to the ground." He said nonchalantly "Plus I got connections here and there."

"Edward, could you tap those connections for information on any recent buyers?" Vato asked, hoping this could be a chance for more leads.

"Yeah I could do that." One shoulder lifted, a gesture that said it was no big deal to do it "What you want to know?"

"Well who has been buying this item, how much they purchased, and names if you can." Vato pulled out his notebook and scribbled it all down, tearing the sheet off and handing it to Edward "And if you can, keep it just between the three of us alright. The less people that know about it the better."

"Gotcha. I'll see what I can dig up on it for you." Edward said, pocketing the slip of paper.

"And remember to be careful Edward." Marcoh added, patting the younger man on the shoulder "I hate to loose one of the best trace techs I've ever had."

"Hey don't sweat it Doc, I'll be fine." Edward grinned, brushing off the warning almost cockily "It's no big deal really."

"Appreciate the extra help Edward." Vato held out his hand, gripping the young mans with a firm shake "Call me when you have anything, alright?"

"You got it Detective." Edward told him, as Vato was heading out of the room.

Leaving the lab behind him, Vato headed up the stairs at a fair clip. Though he didn't look like he worked out, Vato was no couch potato. He could, and often did, outrun other cops on the training grounds. Reaching the main level, he was flipping through the file once more as he passed the main reception desk. He didn't even notice that Riza Hawkeye wasn't at her usual post. But Maria Ross caught his arm as he walked by. Once his face met hers, he realized something was going on. Something very serious.

"Detective Falman, I have a message for you from Captain Mustang." Maria said, biting on her lip.

"What's wrong Maria?" Vato shut the file and gave her his full attention.

"It's Detective Havoc...He was...well the Captain got a call...early this morning...and.." She seemed nervous and very, very worried.

"It's okay, take a deep breath now." Rubbing her arms gently "You said you had a message for me. Did the Captain want to see me?"

"Yes, Oh Vato, I overheard them talking. Jean is in the hospital. They say he was beaten and his car set alight." Maria leaned into Vato a little, as she calmed and steadied some.

"Oh boy, what has he gotten himself into this time?" Vato said under his breath, giving Maria a comforting hug, before letting her go "I'll go see the Captain now, and find out the details. Try not to worry, Jean bounces back from all sorts, he'll be okay."

"I'll try Vato. Will you let me know when you find anything more out?" Maria gripped the top of the high desk "I just hope he's alright."

"I promise to let you know if I find anything new out." With a reassuring smile, he headed off into the Pit, detouring to Mustang's office.

Before reaching the door, he could see his commander on the phone. He looked frustrated. The tone of his voice carrying through the open door, was more evidence to the fact. Riza sat on one of the chairs, taking notes and sorting through papers, answering the second phone any time it rang. That secondary phone was known as the Press Line, for the only people who had the number, were the city papers and news stations. Vato quietly rapped on the door frame, gaining both Riza and Mustang's attentions for a moment. He was beckoned in by his commander. Settling in the spare seat, Vato rested his right ankle on his left knee, and waited.

"...Yes for the hundredth time, I am his commanding officer Captain Roy Mustang ZCPD, badge number 6397, Precinct 83, District 5. Now tell me the status of my officer!" Mustang barked down the phone, rubbing his temple impatiently.

"_You'll have to forgive me sir, but we had to verify you before we let out any pertinent information concerning Mr Havoc_."The snooty nurse on the line told him "_All I know for sure, is that he is conscious but in pain. It is apparent that he has some internal injuries, but he is lucid._"

"Well if he is conscious can you put him on the phone? I need a detailed report of what happened." Mustang said, as he turned to Riza and made some hand gesture, to which he received a pad and pen "I plan to come down there to check on him personally, but I need to get an investigation started ASAP on this."

"_I am sorry Captain, but Mr Havoc cannot come to the nurses station to use this phone. To make a call he would need to use the public phone in the waiting room._" Was the hoity reply, that only fuelled his temper.

"Well why doesn't he do that? For the love of...Are his injuries really that bad?" Mustang pressed on, determined to ascertain the truth.

"_Mr Havoc's injuries are such that he required strapping, stitches and bandaging._" The nurse recited the information from the patient chart in front of her "_At this moment in time, the attending Physician ordered that Mr Havoc was to be given a 4mg shot of Morphine, so he is not able to walk unaided...and is subsequently hitting on my staff, without remorse._" her final statement was said with disdain.

"I see, well then I will be there in due time, to glean the required information." Mustang managed to say, just barely holding back the chuckle, though his face cracked a partial smile "Thank you for your assistance, good bye"

Vato was a man well used to concealing his laughter. Though right now, he wasn't amused, so much as puzzled by his commanders expression. Along with the fact, that once the receiver was down, Roy Mustang actually laughed. Even Riza was put out by the move. In a split second it was over. He turned his chair, rubbed his temples and then placed his hands in the typical steeple stance. He look at Riza, then at Vato. Finally he took a deep breath and relayed the information he had gotten on the rather stressful call, to the very testy nurse he had to deal with. His orders were simple. Riza was to pass the case of Havoc's torched car over to Captain Hughes and his teams. Vato, was to continue working the homicide and once Havoc was let out of hospital, he was to debrief him _and _keep on him to make sure he didn't "Do anything else of major stupidity" again. Vato was to shadow Jean. With his orders given, Roy donned his trench coat and swiftly marched from the precinct to his car. He was going to tear chunks out of Jean for this mess. As soon as he knew the man was A-Okay, he would tear into him. Roy Mustang was not the type to rip apart an idiot who wasn't up to being ripped apart to start with.

Sliding into his car, Roy shoved the key in the ignition, then noticed something on the seat beside him. Glancing over he reached for it. It was a scarf. Feminine, silky soft and as he brought it to his nose to breath in the scent, he groaned softly. He could smell her perfume and her sweet skin upon the floaty material. And with those scents filling his senses, behind closed eyes his mind filled in the visuals. He had lured her to his bed, after a sumptuous dinner. Within the intimacy of his bedroom, they had made love. Slowly, endlessly. Greedily devouring each other. They had fallen asleep, tangled together on his king sized bed. In the early morning light, he had awoken to the phone call that had taken him from her side. Roy had stopped to look upon her, as he placed the handwritten note on the pillow beside her. Rebecca was beautiful. Creamy skin that was smother than the silk of the scarf he now held. Hair as black as ebony, in long luxuriously soft waves. Lips a man could die from kissing. Eyes that could shoot a man down in flames when she saw fit. Roy was sure, he was head over heels for her. It lightened his mood some, just recalling the night before. But as he drove to the hospital, he got mad once more. Thinking of the morning he _could _have spent with her...

...had Jean not gone and been an idiot. Again.

000

Early morning at the Armstrong mansion, was a far cry from what was happening at Precinct 83. The butler and maid were setting up the lavish breakfast, at the grand table in the dinning room. The table was solid oak, stained with a clear varnish to enhance the natural beauty of the wood grain. The chairs were made the same way, with the cushions clad in soft burgundy velvet. Flower arrangements adorned the center of the table, with place settings out to serve five. Olivier was always first to breakfast. An early riser, unlike her more relaxed family. Her younger brother Alex strolled in, a warm greeting for her. Her only response was to once more tell him what a pathetic excuse for a man he was. Alex was well used to this. Catherine followed shortly there after. Oliver's parents sauntered in lastly. As the food was served. Platters of fruit segments, grapefruit and melon, vine ripened grapes and wholemeal bread toasted to perfection, served with butter curls and small pots of preserves. The mornings papers were brought to the table, and the radio was tuned to the news channel. As Catherine and her mother sat together on one side of the table, nibbling at their food and talking of fashion and the arts, Alex and his father Philip shared the papers. Swapping over from the sports to financial sections as they ate. Olivier sat ram rod straight and listened to the radio, sipping her black coffee.

"_...And in other news this morning, police are on the hunt for the perpetrators of a viscous attack on one of their own late last night. Detective Jean Havoc, 28, was found in the early hours of this morning at the old Dock Works on the western edge of the city. His vehicle had been set alight and he was found to be conscious, but suffering internal injuries, the extent of which is unknown at this point in time. ZCPD have asked that anyone with information or any witnesses to this heinous act, to please come forward and contact them, at Precinct 83. And now to the weather report with Trisha..._"

Catherine and her mother seemed not to notice the report, however Alex did. One look at his older sister and he realised, she knew something. Olivier thought it very coincidental, that the Detective who had tried pathetically to flirt with her the day before, had somehow found himself in such a situation. She intended to have a talk with Greed about this matter. With breakfast over, each of the Armstrong clan moved off to their own tasks for the day. Olivier was making her way towards the front of the mansion, where her car awaited her. Alex jogged to catch up with her. He had to say something. He knew his father would not. His mother couldn't care less and his baby sister was too sweet and too innocent, to fully grasp what was happening around her. Blocking her path, he fixed his older sister with a stern look. Though with Olivier, that never seemed to work. She could, and did on many occasions, steam roll him on anything. They never, saw eye to eye.

"You are in my way Alex. Move." Olivier sneered, glaring daggers from those icy blues.

"No. Sister, we need to talk." Alex stood his ground "You know something about that Detective. Don't you?"

"I only know that he was the waste of space who is working on the murder that took place yesterday." She stated flatly, then tried to step around Alex.

"That's not entirely true is it?" He continued, blocking her once more "You know more than that. I can see it in those cold eyes."

"I gave you my answer Alex. Now step aside before I knock you aside!" Olivier barked angrily, going toe to toe with him.

"I won't move until you tell me what is going on Olivier." Alex squared off to her, determination in his soft blue eyes.

Though Alex towered over Olivier, by a good foot and a half or more, she never backed down. They were evenly matched when it came down to it. However, Olivier was much more devious than her brother. In the simplest of moves, she stomped on his foot with enough force to break bones. Alex winced, bravely keeping silent as she dug her heel in forcefully. The very second she lifted her foot, Olivier shoved Alex aside roughly and walked purposefully towards the front door. Leaving Alex no choice but to watch her leave. The doorman opened the heavy oak door, allowing her out. She seemed to flow with ease, down the marble steps towards the car. Miles held the door open for her, shutting it once she slipped in. After rounding the car to take his place behind the wheel, Olivier instructed him to make a stop on the way to the office. Quite a detour, but it was necessary. She had to confront Greed about this matter. Actions like that could reflect badly on her business dealings. So she would deal with him, personally.

It took a while to navigate the city streets this early in the morning. But after an hour, Miles pulled the car up behind the Devils Nest. He hated being here again. Hated to remember what Olivier had done the night before, while he sat like a lap dog in the car. With his temper boiling beneath the surface, he did his job and watched the woman he adored walk into the back door. The club was much quieter in the day time. The cleaning crew were working hard. She knew where to go, to find Greed. Not a soul bothered to try and stop her. They feared her. As she reached the room, that only hours before had been the scene of something she would never admit aloud had been amazing, Olivier simply swung the door open. It bounced off the wall with a loud crack. Marching in, Olivier drew her sword and strategically placed the blade, where it would garner the most effect. Right between Greed's thighs, a hairs breadth from his most favourite appendage.

"Hey hey hey!" Greed all but scampered up on his toes "Easy with that thing honey!"

"Shut up you worm!" Her blade rose a little higher "You imbecile! I should carve you up right here!"

"Whoa whoa whoa! Carve me up! What the fuck for!" Greed demanded, trying to avoid the sharp Katana sword that threatened to castrate him.

"What kind of message is being put across when you go around beating up officers!" Her angry gaze fixed on Greeds amethyst orbs "Do you want to draw more attention to us!"

"Look babe, I have no idea what you are talking about." Greed almost felt his entire body freezing over with that icy glare "I heard about it too alright. I can only assume he was some place he shouldn't have been."

"You want me to believe you didn't order him attacked and his car torched?" Olivier sneered and lifted the blade a little higher "Maybe I should just turn you into a Eunuch?"

"Hey whoa! N-no need for such drastic measures babe!" Greed got his ass onto the desk and managed to roll backwards, landing on his feet "Lets talk about this okay? Let me help figure it out."

"I still think you are responsible Greed." The blade moved so fast, a glint in the light, till the point was at his throat "Talk. Explain to me why I should believe it wasn't your doing."

"Look...uh..." He didn't dare swallow, he could knick himself on the blade without meaning to "My bodyguard, Loa, we should ask him, see what he knows."

"Why? Doesn't he take his orders directly from you Greed?" She narrowed her eyes at him.

"Well, that's the thing see..." Greed tried to grin "Sometimes, he does things on my behalf and doesn't inform me...heh...plausible deniability ya know?"

"Your pathetic Greed." Sheathing her sword, Olivier leaned her hands on the desk "Get him in here. NOW!"

"Okay okay..." Greed used the intercom to call Loa into the office "...no need to get those panties in a twist honey, unless you feel like removing them so I can lower your stress levels."

It was the grin that made her feel both sick and hot all at once. She stayed stoically silent and straight faced. Though a dull throbbing began between her thighs. Memories of the night before, trickled into her thoughts. The heat. The passion. The need. She hated to admit it, even to herself, but she wanted another round with him. The door opening behind her, drew her back from those thoughts. Loa, she noted, was a very large man. His white hair made him appear older than he likely was. His broad shoulders, square jaw and enormous hands, spoke volumes as to what that man could do...to an unwanted snooper. Her gut feeling said, this was man who had caused the unwanted trouble.

"Ah, Loa." Greed settled back in his large leather chair "I need to ask you, did we have any unwanted guests last night?"

"Yes. I took care of them." Loa was a man of few words.

"I see. Do we know the gate crasher?" With a soft thunk, Greed put his feet up in the desk.

"Yes. That pain in the ass cop." Loa replied, then a hint of a grin appeared "I sent him a crystal clear message boss."

"You call beating him up and torching his car a message?" Olivier snapped "I call that gross stupidity by an imbecile with less brain cells than an entire barrel full of Flatworms!"

"Easy now sweetheart." Greed placated "He's hired to be the muscle around here, not for his brains...or lack there of."

"Boss, if he'd just been sniffing around the club, I'd have just thrown his ass out." Loa stated, then visibly looked uncomfortable "But he was sniffing around back here. Spying on you...and the lady."

"I have a name, you buffoon!" Olivier barked angrily "And just what do you mean by 'spying' on us?"

"Well ma'am, you and the boss were..." Loa coughed, shifting his stance "...engaged in...in here and he was, spying from the room next door."

"Loa, how did you know he was here?" Greed asked, genuinely curious "Did you catch him before or after?"

"I caught him after boss. I was going back to put some takings in the safe, heard a noise from the next room over." Clearing his throat he continued "I waited outside the room door, I could hear someone sneaking around, then the door opened and I..."

"And you clocked him, right?" Greed finished the sentence, then just chuckled "Well there's your answer Olivier."

"Your behemoth here, ruffed up a cop. One who is connected to me via that damned inconvenient murder at my facility yesterday." Crossing her arms under her ample chest, she glared at Greed "Just how do you think this will look?"

"Well, there's no real connection between us, right?" Greed offered "After all one bout of steamy sex, doesn't constitute a firm link."

"It's enough of one to be concerned." That icy glare pinned Greed to his seat "We need a contingency plan. In case that cop turns out to be more Bloodhound, rather than the docile old dog he pretends to be.

"Look, I'm sure he will think twice about getting into our business again." Greed smirked, over confidence keen in those amethyst eyes "Loa here can be very persuasive."

"I doubt this will simply go away Greed." Olivier made for the door, looking over her shoulder once "Better watch your back."

"Thanks for the warning sweetheart..." Greed called after her "...but I don't have to concern myself that way."

Olivier headed out to the car, Miles still awaiting her. After settling into the car and Miles started out, she glanced in his direction. She was well aware of his infatuation with her. It worked to her advantage. He would do most anything for her. Doing a little digging, would be child's play to him. As he drove, she gave him the run down of what she wanted him to do, while she was at the office that day. His tasks included, making a trip to the hospital to find out the extent of the damage done by Greed's lackey. Then he was to check in with his informants, to see how much the police knew of the murder and her time with Greed at the club. And finally, he was to make sure to deliver a message to the old coot Clemin. If anyone – other than Greed – wanted to steal from her and murder a scientist, it would be him and his group of old farts. It seemed she was destined to be surrounded by idiots, morons and cowards her entire life. The mere thought, sickened her. Once at the office, she would be sure to lay the law down to her staff. No one, under any circumstances, was permitted to die on the premises.

Miles drove to the front of the building, did his chauffeur duties and watched Olivier head inside. Now it was his turn to shine. Time he could prove to her how useful he was. He needed her to recognize his need for her, his love for her. To see him as an equal, not as a servant. His first port of call was the hospital. He would then visit with his most trusted informant, Yoki, to get the word on the street. That man may have been a complete dimwit, but he had his ear to the ground and knew damn near every move that every person, animal or insect made. He also considered checking in with his kinsman. Scar, named solely for his war marred face, tended to run with the underground crowds. In the seediest of dives, where the ne'er-do-wells of society congregated. Of course, it gave Miles the perfect reason, to get a little female satisfaction also...since the girls in those places, were hot for it day and night. For the cost of a couple drinks. Yes, he would show Olivier how much she needed him. Would make sure she saw, that Greed was not worthy of her.

Failing to win the heart and soul of the woman he adored...was not an option. He would rather die, than live without her.


	6. Chapter 6

_Chapter 6_

Old time twangy country played from the Jukebox and the air stank of beer, body odour and nicotine in unhealthy quantities. The floor was worn to tatters. The walls were stained dirty from the constant haze of smoke. Every chair and table in the venue had seen better days. The bar itself, seemed to be badly in need of sanding and re-varnishing and the bottles on the back shelf clearly hadn't been touched in a decade, the layer of dust was that bad. There ought to have been a health warning above the door to this dive. If it were known by the "regular" folk, it would have been condemned years ago. Of course, only a certain clientèle ever stepped foot through it's door. And that, was the reason he was here. Those who frequented this establishment, ran in circles that had shady dealings and illegal practices. But that also meant, they could go places he couldn't and find out what he needed to know...and one man, never declined to help him. As was normal, Miles found him sat at the far end of the bar and silently settled on the battered stool beside his. With a casual nod to the barkeep, a brown bottle was dug from the fridge, the cap twisted off as it was set before him. His companion didn't take his gaze from his own bottle.

"I wondered when you'd show up." The man said, his voice soft but with a deadly note beneath the cool exterior.

"So, you heard what was going on then?" Miles took a pull of his beer, grimacing at the cheap bitterness of it.

"The whole city heard." His companion replied, mimicking the move, before setting his beer down lightly "You seek those responsible, right?"

"Yes, I do"

"For that _woman_?"

"Does it really matter?"

"It matters to me, seeing my fellow kinsman wasting his time and energy on a woman, who only sees him as a tool to be used." Blood red eyes flicked to stare at Miles, simmering anger swimming in them "When will you accept it?"

"There is nothing to accept Scar." Miles stared back with like colored eyes "You and I both know it is impossible to control the heart."

"It's not your heart that is the issue, it's your damned head Miles." Scar turned back to his beer, taking a long pull and setting it down with a clack.

"Like your one to talk, pining over that whore." With a sneer, he grabbed at the bowl of pretzels on the bar "You know she isn't the same woman as when you were younger."

"She is not your concern" Grabbing pretzels he crushed them in his fisted hand "Lets agree to leave it for now, I don't want to fight with you over females."

"Fine with me..." Another moment of silence and more drinking "So, have you heard any information down the grapevine, regarding the incident?"

"There have been some whispers. Talk of a man, a specialist..." Scar looked forward, as though gazing through space and time "...name is never mentioned, but..."

"But what?" Miles prompted his friend "What sort of specialist is he?"

"Do you recall our time on the battle field?" Those red eyes, once angry, now looked melancholy.

"I do, though I try not to let it overtake my mind." Staring at his beer bottle, his mind drifting back to when he and his friend had gone through hell together.

"The things we did there, haunt me to this day. But...I can never forget _him_." Scar closed his eyes, lowering his head "You know of whom I speak my brethren."

"Him?" Miles knew alright, all too well "Are you telling me, that crazy sadistic son of a bitch is connected to this somehow?"

"So say the whispers. They say when he returned from the battle, he went into business as a mercenary. Earning his living from killing." Another long pull from the bottle and Scar had finished it "The thought of it, sickens me."

"He always was a tricky customer to deal with. But to have to cope with him killing for a price tag..." Miles shook his head and pushed the bowl of pretzels away "We can't let him do this any longer. He needs to be stopped, Scar."

"Miles, you do what you need to." Getting to his feet, patting Miles's shoulder, Scar started out "I for one, do not wish to entangle myself with that twisted excuse for a human being."

Watching scar leave the bar, Miles could only wonder how, he was ever going to stop the mad man. He needed to figure it out, to be clever, to be devious and to think just a little like his quarry. If he was to deal with this, before Olivier could. That was one factor against him. Another, were the cops. But the one that really pissed him off...was Greed.

"I can't allow him to win." He muttered to himself "I have to put a stop to their deal."

Miles headed out the bar, crossing the busy street, he yanked the car door open and slid in. With a hard slam, he closed the door and jabbed the key into the ignition. As he pulled away from the curb, he started to run down all the possible places he could find the man he now sought. Crazy as he was, his target was also predictable in some ways. Having a penchant for random outbursts and sly motives, he was also very anal about his attire and the company he kept. So Miles would start with the clothing. It was the easiest option. It wouldn't take too long to gather a list of the more exclusive mens clothing stores in the city. Then he would simply visit each one, till he found the one that had dealings with _that _guy. Gripping the wheel tighter, the car sped up and Miles got a picture in his head of the man he had to find. That smug grin. The slicked black mane. The glimmers of evil swirling behind those cat like yellow eyes. That creepy laugh. Yes, it was going to take all his knowledge and all his testicular fortitude to handle this. To handle him.

God help him.

000

He felt on top of the world. Literally. It was like floating or being weightless in space. Well, he had heard you were weightless in space. He had never been personally, but he could swear he was there now. Only space seemed to be noisy, not soundless. But as a fringe benefit, so it seemed to him, this noisy version of space or heaven or whatever one would call it...it was full of gorgeous women in nurses uniforms. His brow tried to crease and failed, in his mild frustration. He could normally charm the pants off any sexy woman or hot guy. So how come he was failing at every try? What was he doing wrong? Every cute nurse would give him a sweet smile, till he tried one of his pick up lines. Then they would get this odd look and walk away trying to stifle a laugh. Still frowning, Jean tried to puzzle it out in his mind. There had to be a reason for it. But what? They had left him alone for a short time now and when the curtain to his cubicle slid open with a tiny screech of the metal rings against the pole, he turned a goofy smile in the persons direction. His eyes settled on a sight that made the goofiness vanish in a micro second and the frown return.

"Ahh man." Jean said, not even hearing the slur to his voice "Not'choo. Your go-anna cwamp my shtyle bosh."

"I hardly think your style will be cramped at all, Havoc." Roy stepped closer, resting a hand above the pillow and the other on the safety rail "Your words are coming out like your drunk or suffered a stroke."

"I do nof shound like am dwunk!" Jean retorted, in a comically slurred fashion "Your phull o'ship!"

"Hardly..." Roy looked him over, frowned down at the currently doe-eyed blonde "...your the one who _looks_ like shit, at any rate."

"Pfft!" Jean chuckled a bit, then winced "A've worsh bosh."

"Really? I dread to think what you class as _worse_ Jean." Roy's eyes met the glazed azure pools "What the hell happened to you?"

Just as Jean was about to attempt to reply, a woman came in wearing a long white coat, a stethoscope hanging around her neck and a patient chart in her hands. She looked at Roy, then narrowed her eyes behind her thin rimmed glasses. She knew his type. The "Get the bad guys at all costs" type. A man who cared little about the people working under him. Her immediate suspicion, was that he was only interested in the details and nothing more. She hated people like that.

"Sir, your going to have to leave." She said flatly, her brilliant blue eyes tainted with disgust "Mr Havoc is recovering from some rather less than minor wounds."

"Look doctor..." Roy scanned her coat for a name tag, finding none.

"Rockbell, Sara Rockbell. I am the attending physician to Mr Havoc. At this point in time it is only family who may visit him." There was a toughness in those eyes and strength in her voice.

Confident women. Roy Mustang's one weakness.

"Doctor Rockbell, I am Jean's superior. I came down here to find out from him just what happened so that I can start to track down the perpetrators. I have a right to be here, on official police business." He stood straight and held her gaze, playing her at her own game.

A test of wills.

Jean was so doped up, he just smiled in that goofy way again. He figured he was in for a show.

"I know who you are sir and I know your type also." She set the chart aside and crossed her arms under her breast "You uniform junkies are all the same. You don't care a bit about your colleagues lives only the solving of a case."

"Well, you certainly have a low opinion of law enforcement." Roy smirked, seeing it annoyed her, his smirk widened "I guess you have only had contact with _other _precincts_._ At mine, those at the top of the chain, take care of the ones under us and in turn those below them."

"Save it. That smirk doesn't work on me, I'm immune to such pathetic tricks." Sara glared daggers at him from across the bed "And as to your claims, I don't believe a word of it."

"That is entirely your choice doctor." The smirk vanished, concern spreading over his face "What injuries has he suffered?"

"I'll tell you what I can and then you have to leave. Understood?" That glare only got more heated.

"Yes ma'am, loud and clear." Roy smiled "Now, his injuries?"

"Mr Havoc sustained multiple contusions to his face and torso. He has lacerations on his lip and abdomen, most likely due to some weapon such as a knuckle duster." Flipping the chart open, Sara continued "He also suffered three cracked ribs, two to his left and one to his right, along with a burst blood vessel in his right eye which will remain blurry for a day or two yet. And finally he needed to be treated for slight smoke inhalation also, due to his proximity to the fire."

Roy blinked, taking in every word. He couldn't believe someone had the gall to do this to an officer. Let alone to one of his men.

"And how long will he need to rest in order to fully heal?" He asked, looking up to see a stunned expression upon the doctors face.

"I would say, at the very least six to eight weeks, one of which is to be total bed rest." She replied, as though her brain was on automatic.

"I see..." Roy looked down at the still grinning Jean "...well Jean, you idiot, looks like you get a paid vacation from this mess."

Jean just grinned more, his eyes no longer so glazed, but clouded with fatigue. His lids became heavy and slowly drooped shut. The doctor leaned over and checked his vitals. There was a soft, barely audible sigh of relief from her.

"He's sleeping. It can take awhile for the Morphine to knock some people out." She looked down at him "He's been hitting on or trying to hit on, every nurse, orderly and doctor who passed by his bed."

"Heh, sounds just like Jean." Roy chuckled, a fond smile spreading over his face "He's known as the station flirt. He's always trying to pick up women. It's part of his charm, I suppose."

"His charm?" Sara looked up at Roy, puzzlement on her face.

"Yes, but that is what helps to make him a great detective...he uses that talent to calm hysterical people."

"That sounds nice and creepy all at once." She laughed a little, then composed herself "At any rate, I have rounds and other patients to see to. I answered your questions and Mr Havoc is resting, now please leave."

"Alright." Roy reached into his pocket and pulled out a card "This is my number at the station, please contact me if anything changes with Jean."

"Yes, I will." Taking the card she slipped it into her pocket "I have to say, I find it odd that a cop cares at all for his subordinates. It's rather novel."

As the doctor walked away, Roy took one last look at Jean. He was going to get to the bottom of this. Whom ever had hurt this man, was going to pay. Justice would catch up to them, kick their ass's and throw them behind bars. Yes, justice in the form of Roy Mustang, would meet out some serious jail time.

That is...after he opened a whole keg of whoop ass on them.

Strolling out the hospital doors and into the sunshine, he felt a prickle on the back of his neck. Roy was familiar with that sensation...he was being watched. Carefully looking around, he could see only visitors and some hospital staff. But that feeling persisted all the way to his car. Sliding in behind the wheel, he sat there, scanning the parking lot. No one popped out. They all looked to be normal people, who either worked there or was visiting someone there. As he pulled out of the lot, he tried to forget the feeling. He had a job to do. Getting side tracked by his own suspicious nature, wasn't going to help catch the culprits who had beaten Jean.

As the black car set off down the road, the watcher grinned. He wasn't contracted to kill the Captain. But it sure would be fun, he thought, to carve him up some and then use him for a test dummy. A bomb test dummy. Testing his newest toys on stray animals, just wasn't cutting the mustard any longer. He needed a live specimen. One that would scream and yell, in pain and agony as piece by piece they were ripped apart. Oh the mere thought gave him a shiver of pleasure. He wanted it so badly he was practically salivating over it. He had already planned, a very fitting experiment, for the man who he was currently working for.

If nothing else, he would have his fun and earn his fee and then claim his bonus at the very end.

Dissecting Basque Grand.

Opening him up and smearing his blood everywhere in that prissy apartment of his. That dog ugly, pompous, self gratifying man and his atrocious taste in décor. Yes, he would take his time and enjoy every last scintillating moment of it. With a chuckle, he went on his way, whistling a cheery tune, in the summer sunshine.

He would have his fun. Soon.

000

By mid morning, the restaurant was heaving with the Brunch crowds. Nearly every table was occupied and the wait staff were run off their feet. Rebecca waited for the Maitre'd to finish his course around the dinning room, so he could attend to her. There were a few familiar faces, a wave here and there, but she wasn't thinking about whom she knew. Not really. After an exhaustive search of Roy's apartment, she had returned to where they had dined the night before, to seek out her missing silk scarf. She couldn't quite recall where she had put it. Though, to be fair, she had had a difficult time just finding her panties, let alone her wayward scarf. Smiling to herself she recalled the night before after they left the restaurant. Rebecca had been adamant to herself, she would not fall for Roy's charms and be lead to his bed. However, she could never have bet on how persuasive the man could be. And in such pleasurable ways at that. A faint memory tingle raced over her stomach. Those long slender hands, had skimmed over her stomach, finger tips playing a silent tune on her flesh and making her arch up for more contact. He had lulled, caressed, teased and tortured her senses to heights she never knew existed.

The mere memory of it all, made her skin break out in goose bumps and her clitoris throb with need. Good God, she wanted him again.

"Mademoiselle? Pardon? May I help you?" The Maitre'd asked in a strong French accent, giving her a funny cock-eyed look at the way she stared and her cheeks hinted of rouge.

"What?" Blinking, Rebecca was suddenly back in reality "Oh! I'm terribly sorry, my mind was wandering. I came in to ask if a silk scarf had been found here."

"You leave behind perhaps? When did you dine with us?" He brought out a brown leather bound book and began to search through the pages.

"Perhaps, I'm not quite sure. I was here last night." She told him, watching him flipping pages.

"Merde." He said after a few moments "There is no scarf listed here. I am terribly sorry, Mademoiselle."

"Oh I see, well then I must have left it or lost it elsewhere." With a soft huff of frustration, she smiled at the man "Thank you very much for checking sir."

"Avec plaisir, Mademoiselle. I am sorry it was not here." He told her as she turned to leave.

"I'm sure I'll find it at some point or wind up buying a new one." She said over her shoulder with a pleasant smile.

Making her way back towards the main doors, she passed numerous tables with chatting people seated at them. She was even stopped once, by someone she knew, for the obligatory "hello, how are you?" and so on. It was as she neared the slightly sheltered area behind the planter wall of ferns, that a snippet of conversation caught her attention. Stopping and pretending to search for something in her bag, she trained her hearing onto the mens voices. They seemed to be having a hushed, yet heated discussion about something.

Something, her instincts told her, that sounded like trouble.

"The rest of the board feel your becoming a liability Basque! You have got to stop whatever ridiculous plan your setting into motion!" One of the men ground out, his tone seething yet shushed.

"I will do nothing of the sort! Have you forgotten? You tossed me out! Removed me from the inner circle! And for what? Because I had the gumption to aim higher than you and that pitiful bunch of useless cowards!" The second man retorted, much angrier and who's deep baritone was akin to a shock wave blast.

"You left us little choice in the matter! Your methods where highly questionable, to say the least!" A fist thumped on the table, rattling the silverware and glasses "You should be thankful all that happened was your removal! I had to convince them you would not cause further disruption if they simply let you go!"

"Thankful!? Your out of your tiny mind Clemin! I fail to see my removal as anything but a betrayal and a disregard of my ideas to make the company more productive!" That baritone went a scale lower, a threatening malice laced in it "I am aiming for more than you pathetic morons could ever dream of...I will own this city. And those who oppose me will be mown down for their cowardice."

"Your insane Basque. Insane. You cannot go around ordering people killed to suit yourself or your needs!" Clemin ground out, the sound of defeat in his voice.

Clemin knew...he would never convince him to stop.

"I can do as I see fit. If someone or something is in my way, I simply remove it." He rose from the table, tossing his napkin down "If you or those fools get in my way, you will be cut down."

Clemin watched as Basque Grand stalked out of the restaurant, leaving him to foot the bill. Rebecca had been listening in, while sifting aimlessly through her bag. Grand had passed right by her, not even giving her a second thought. For that, she was relieved. Though Roy never discussed work while with her, she was familiar with the ongoing cases at the precinct. It was her job and knowledge that told her, this information needed to be passed on to the right people. Just before she started towards the door once more, Clemin walked passed her. Even holding the door open for her like a gentleman. By the time she reached her car, he was already driving away. She ran over the portion of conversation she had heard in her head as she drove. Clemin had mentioned something about having people killed and that Grand was orchestrating the hits. So that could be a lead for the cops to follow in their search for the perpetrator of the murder currently top of the pile for Captain Mustang.

She knew that Clemin was the current head of the Van Guard Institute, the company that had been working on top secret projects for the military for years. She also knew, that he was the youngest of the board of directors. She hadn't known, however, that Basque Grand had once been a part of that board. She knew of him through his own dealings with the city mayor and the police chief commissioner. Grand was always show boating in public. Making sure that anyone and everyone, knew his name and that he was not to be trifled with. Though, she had attributed that last detail to corporate blacklisting and aggressive take over tactics. Murder had never even popped to mind. Until now. Though she wasn't a celebrity fiend like most socialite women, she made it a point to stay abreast of the developments in the business sector. It was just part of her make up. She always had to know what the movers and shakers were up to. Legal or not. Of course, working in the crime lab, meant she gained an extra edge from her knowledge. Her expertise may have been Ballistics, but people didn't always need bullets to cause harm to another. To Rebecca, knowledge was power. And she preferred to have the power as opposed to not.

Pulling into the precinct parking lot, she smiled at Denny as she passed him. The day had been pleasantly lovely, but now a dark ominous cloud was drifting in from the north-west and it threatened the city like a swarm of Locusts bearing down on a crop. She made her way inside the building. As was usual, it was a buzzing hive of activity. Passing Booking, she took the steps up to the Pit quickly. Riza and Maria were on the reception desk. Smiles and nods were exchanged. Captain Hughes was once again flaunting pictures of his daughter, much to the dismay of his team. It seemed odd to her, that Roy's blinds were all drawn. Rebecca rapped once sharply on the door, before entering and closing it behind her. Roy was at his desk, looking stressed and generally pissed off. He was currently on the phone, most likely to the police commissioner or possibly press. Either of those, were enough to put Roy into a hell of a bad mood. Cocking her left hip onto the corner of his desk, she simply waited for him to finish his call. Relaying what she had overheard, was priority right now. Her scarf could wait.

"...yes sir, I fully understand that this matter does not reflect positively on my department." Roy listened to the voice on the other end of the line "It is my top priority to get to the bottom of this incident sir. I assure you, I will not let this fall to the wayside."

"_Make sure that you do Captain. An act this heinous cannot go unpunished._" The commissioner said, the faintest hint of disgust in his voice "_I want you to keep me abreast of all the developments on this Mustang. Is that understood?_"

"Yes sir, I will be sure to report to you periodically on our progress. Captain Hughes is in charge of the incident involving Detective Havoc and my men are focused on the murder investigation." Roy rubbed a hand over his face, looking bedraggled and exhausted.

"_Very good. Update me with any new information by the end of the day Captain._" Grumman said with authority, that came from years on the job.

"Yes sir, count on it." Roy replied, before placing the receiver back in it's cradle and slumping back in his chair "Damn. This whole mess with Jean has put a blemish on my departments perfect record. That idiot."

"Well I'm sure he never intended to get himself beat to hell and back, Roy. You know him as well as anyone, he follows his instincts." Rebecca smiled, resting a hand on the desk and leaning a little "Just the way you taught him to be."

"Granted I taught him to follow his nose and to be thorough, But I never taught him to get himself hurt. That fool." Combing a hand through his hair, Roy settled a light smirk on his lips "And to what do I owe the pleasure of your beauty in my office Rebecca?"

"Stop feeling guilty about it. What happened is not your fault." Her smile vanished "Sadly this isn't a social visit Roy, I heard something a short while ago that has me worried."

"Worried enough to come straight to me with? That must be serious." Bringing his hands to the trade mark steeple pose, Roy narrowed his eyes "What did you hear?"

"Clemin, the youngest member of the board of directors for the Van Guard Institute, was having a heated discussion with Basque Grand." She frowned, folding her arms under her breast, as she crossed her legs.

"Clemin and Grand?" Roy blinked, this news surprised him "What the hell would they have to discuss?"

"Well apparently, Grand was once on the board of directors at the Van Guard..." She began.

"A board member?"

"Yeah and from what I got there was some uncertainty about his code of conduct, so they let him go."

"I see, so he may have an axe to grind."

"Didn't seem that way to me." she continued "Seemed to me, that Clemin and the board were not pleased with the antics Grand was getting up to."

"What sort of antics?" Roy frowned.

"The murdering kind. From what I heard, Grand has been having hits put out on people."

"Hits? That's definitely not good." Roy thought a moment "You think he could be connected to this murder at the Armstrong Research facility?"

"I'd say that was a safe bet. But Roy..." She looked worried again "...it sounded like Clemin wanted him to stop and he refused to. Threatened Clemin with being cut down if he got in his way."

"Well that certainly warrants investigation. I'll have Hughes look into the details, and if we find something, I'll have Falman go pay him a visit." Roy's concern turned to a devious smirk "This could be the break we need Rebecca."

"Yeah, thought it was best to let you know right away what I had found out...plus..." She glared at him "...I wanted to find my damn scarf. It was pure silk and not cheap."

Roy chuckled deeply, rising he pulled open a drawer and took the scarf out, before moving closer to her.

"I found it on the front seat of the car this morning." As she took hold of it, he refused to let go, moving into her personal space "In all this mess, the memory of last night, brought a smile out of me."

"Oh did it now?" She looked into those deep dark pools, feeling that tingle crawl across her stomach again "Well it was definitely a memorable experience."

Roy leaned in close, brushing his lips across hers, catching a waft of her scent. His free hand skimmed up her ribs, causing a delightful shiver beneath his finger tips and her breath to hitch. Letting go of the scarf, his hand swept into her dark locks and cupped the back of her head, as his lips claimed hers for a sultry kiss. A whimper. A low groan. The tango of silken tongues. A thumb brushing teasingly across a cloth covered nipple. Rebecca could feel her body start to quake with need, warm wetness and a throbbing clitoris, combined to intensify the subtle eroticism of the moment. The danger of some one walking in, only making it that more thrilling. If they had been anywhere but here, Roy would have followed his bodies wants and needs, to take Rebecca and slowly devour every inch of her soft caramel curves. But now was not the time, nor the place for such luxuries. He had a job to do and a dangerous criminal to catch. Before it was too late.

Drawing back a bit, Roy slowly let his eyes open to gaze at the woman he desired. Her cheeks were a little flushed, her own lids still closed and her chest rising and falling with short panting breaths. She looked beautiful to him. He only wished it were the end of the working day, so he could coax her to his bed again and sink into her luscious velvet. To drink of her. That smooth liquor, that any man would be an addict for and crave the whole day long. He intended, that night, to drown himself in that delicious nectar.

"As much as I want to continue this wonderfully arousing moment with you, darling, I have work to do." A soft peck to her lips and a whispered promise "But tonight, I'm going to lavish you with all you deserve and more."

"Mmm, big words Roy..." Smiling, giggling softly as she teased his lip between her teeth to nibble it "...you better live up to them. Or I may have to dump you."

"Rebecca..." Roy groaned, a sound that he knew sounded needy "...I promise you, this will blow last night, out of the hemisphere. Please don't torture me with the threat of being dumped by the most alluring Ballistics expert in the city."

It was exactly, what Rebecca wanted to hear. She was skilled at making men, strong men, putty in her hands.

"Live up to those promises Roy..." She nipped his jawline and down his neck a little "...and I'll let you keep seeing me."

Her giggle burst from her, when she saw the pained look on his face. It was priceless. No other man, to date, had been so hooked on her as to do whatever it took to keep her on his arm and in his bed. This one, could be a keeper. Maybe. They would see, she thought.

"Uhrn, you...are such a tease, Rebecca." Now he was the one panting, she certainly could make his pulse race.

"But you love me that way Roy." With a wink, Rebecca shifted from the desk and out of Roy's space, making for the door she turned, blew a kiss to him "See you later handsome."

With that, she was gone. Roy was left alone in his office, with the stiffest hard-on he had ever experienced. How he was going to focus on his work, he didn't know. But he sat back down, wincing a little as his tailored pants drew tight around his groin. If it didn't settle down soon, he was going to have to head for the gents and jerk himself soft again. Which would test his ability to be quiet when he came, hard, which was undoubtedly going to happen. As if to make matters worse, Riza entered the office with a stack of paperwork. Roy's face fell. He loathed paperwork. However the mere thought of that which he loathed, soothed his aching member.

"Your timing is impeccable Riza." He chuckled, but then sighed when the press line rang "Mustang."

"_Captain Mustang, Kristen Koulter of the Zusyrion Times. I was hoping you could give me a statement as to the progress of the investigations into the murder of Mr Shou Tucker late yesterday afternoon and the attack on Detective Jean Havoc sometime in the early hours of this morning._" Came the determined and perky voice, rattling off the request in double quick time.

Smart, thought Roy, lay it out before I have the chance to hang up. He hated reporters, almost as much as paperwork.

"Look, Miss Koulter, I have gotten the same general questions all morning..." Roy rubbed his temple "...and my answer is the same as it has been for all those other eager press hounds. No. Comment."

"_But Captain, surely the public has a right to know if there is a dangerous killer on the loose in the city and therefore protect themselves. As an officer of the law, you have a responsibility to..._"

"As an officer of the law my responsibility lies with doing my job and catching criminals to protect the public. It is not, and never will be, to divulge pertinent information regarding an on going case or cases." He said, stern strength in his tone, a subtle message for the reporter to back off.

It seemed to fall onto deaf ears. Or stubborn ones.

"_Without public assistance, how can you hope to catch this madman before he kills again? And what measures are you implementing to ensure this matter is swiftly resolved? In such a case wouldn't it make a substantial difference to the outcome, if the general public were to act as the eyes and ears on the ground? They do outnumber the police officers twenty-to-one._"

"Miss Koulter, I believe I have already told you, no comment and I stand by that ruling. As to the need for public awareness, informing the general populace at this early stage, will do nothing but cause panic and lead to unrest. I will not have that in my city." Roy told her bluntly "Now if you'll excuse me, I have work to do. Thank you for your call."

"_Wait Captain! Are you saying you truly believe your protecting the city by not releasing the information about a dangerous killer?_" She persisted.

"Goodbye Miss Koulter." Roy reached out to put the phone down.

Kristen's voice seemed to shrill from the ear piece, as she tried in vain to get even a nugget.

"_But Captain, what about your moral responsibility! What if the perpetrator kills a child? Or an old man? Or..._"

With that, the room fell silent.

"Reporters. They drive me crazy at the worst of times and irritate me at the best of times." Roy said, to no one in particular.

"Sir, they may annoy most of the time, but you've always known how to manipulate them when needed, to achieve a positive result." Riza told him, setting a note on his desk.

"Yes well, it comes with territory having to deal with those vultures." Picking up the note he read it and then set it down "So, they finally let him home. Lets just hope he stays there."

"I believe, sir, they have arranged for a home nurse to watch over him for a week..." Riza smiled a little "Pinako Rockbell. A formidable women, who's son married Jean's doctor from the ER."

"Is that so? Heh, well then I have nothing to worry about." Resting back in his chair, he rubbed his chin in thought "Have Hughes look into the possible connection between Grand and Clemin, also let Falman know that he needs to look into the mercenary want ad's. Sniff around to see if there is any truth to Grand ordering hits on people who are in his way."

"Yes sir, anything else?" Riza asked, after jotting it down on her pad.

"Just that Falman is to go over to Jean's, catch him up and try to get a coherent statement from him about how he wound up beaten and his car torched. And if he has any clue who did it to him."

"Consider it done sir." Riza said, heading out of the office.

Roy settled back to his work, his previous problem hard-on was long forgotten and sleeping once more. There were some nice fresh leads to follow. Maybe even a few avenues not yet tapped. His gut told him that the reporter, Kristen Koulter, was going to become a headache all too quickly. She was the type, the dog with a bone type, who would keep on chipping away at his patience till she got what she wanted.

A juicy story for the front page.

000000


End file.
